Harry Potter and the Soul Gems
by shedoc
Summary: Coming as it did a scant 10 hours after his defeat of Voldemort, the Minsitry's exile of Harry Potter must have come as a crushing betrayal...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer – JKR and several other companies etc owns the characters that you recognise

Disclaimer – JKR (and several other companies etc) owns the characters that you recognise. I own the plot

Notes – the following story is _**very**_ AU! Based on a 'what if the Ministry exiled Harry after he defeated Voldemort…' and a 'what if the great Horcrux hunt was set for Harry as a sixth year challenge instead of it being mostly Dumbly's job…' Dumbledore is still alive, as is Snape. Sirius is dead though…

Oh and Dumbly is _slightly_ evil in this one. On the other hand, at least he's not the benign character that I usually write.

I can't give any warnings or pairings without giving the game away. It is an MPREG story, but not graphic. Actually, _everyone_ has babies in this one… Wizards, Witches, Hippogriffs… but still not graphic!

As I said in my profile there are several character names I have 'lifted' from other shows… they are NOT supposed to be in character…

BTW – Harry will be speaking with a number of people from various countries around the world and I have chosen not to try to record their accents – it would be too confusing and as I only speak two languages (English and bad English) I don't wanna mangle anyone's home language…

Harry Potter and the Soul Gems

0o0o0o0

**PROLOGUE**

0o0o0o0

_**Extract from 'Harry Potter: The Man behind the Legend. An Unofficial Biography'**_

… _Coming as it did a mere ten hours after his defeat of the self-styled Lord Voldemort, the British Ministry's declaration of exile is still seen by many as a crushing betrayal. Having sacrificed both family and love to the cause of ridding Britain of the ascending Dark Lord, Harry Potter found himself reeling on a street corner in France, deposited there by the Port Key the Ministry had used to part him from his homeland forever._

_Little is known about those first grim hours, though it is believed that several magical races made contact with Mr Potter to offer their support and succour…_

0o0o0o0

Harry settled more comfortably on the floating carpet and waited patiently for the sun to rise. He had his journal balanced on his knee and the spell he used to orient himself, giving Muggle latitude and longitude as well as the Wizarding equivalent, was hovering in the air, waiting to be directed to a new location. He'd already marked in the main site, and all he needed now was the dawn to prove his theory right.

The last of the shadows lightened and then began to lift. Acting quickly, Harry sent his spell out to locate the four rounded shadows that shouldn't have been on the flat featureless terrain, sketching them in quickly on his map, and adding the location details as the spell bounced back. He added in the major landmarks, the sketched map taking shape under his sure eye. At Hogwarts, he'd never have listed sketching as one of his talents, but now… two years of near constant practice had improved his skills, as well as his handwriting.

Satisfied he'd recorded all the pertinent details, Harry cancelled the spell, and then used the magically altered Polaroid camera to take a few pictures. The sun was rapidly heating the air, which was to be expected in the desert. Dobby had insisted on Harry wearing a cloak in the cool night air, but Winky had laid a few charms on it that would prevent him from overheating once the sun was up. The loose cotton clothes he wore beneath, a marked changed from the usual Muggle clothes he'd worn growing up, had the same charm.

Harry glanced over his shoulder, admiring the dawn as it crept over the desert. It was so different to England, no green hills, no crowded together houses. This part of the desert had seen action in a Muggle war – there were still trenches and barbed wire around, and an unwary or unlucky person could take a nasty fall into one or the other, or both, if they weren't careful. The area was supposed to have been the site of some furious Muggle battles, and was still said to be haunted, though Harry suspected that was the by-product of the tomb's wards more than anything else.

The sun got too bright, and Harry sighed, shut his journal around his never-out quill and nudged the flying carpet into motion, heading for the small group of tents that the team of curse breakers called home. Though he still vastly preferred to fly on a broom if going any distance, the small flying carpet he'd picked up in a Cairo bazaar was a good platform for map work. It would seat four, and had a lovely gold and blue scarab woven into the centre. From his vantage point he could see the roof of his tent, home to himself and two House Elves, the ventilation panels rolled up to let in the fresh air. Winky had a real fetish for fresh air, and after ten years in a cupboard, and another six and a half in a boarding school Harry had no objection.

To say that he'd been surprised when Dobby arrived at his side in France, mere minutes after the Ministry Port Key deactivated would be an understatement. He'd still been reeling from the shock of being told to leave England, not to mention weakened and seriously injured by the final battle against Voldemort. His only other choice had been Azkaban, locked up on charges of plotting his own Dark Supremacy, and if he'd stayed, they'd have also locked the Weasley's and Hermione away, charged as his key supporters. Harry had chosen to leave at once, not wanting to ruin their lives as well, and the Port Key had been shoved unceremoniously into his hand. The walls of his ward in St Mungo's had been replaced with the pre-dawn street, cold spring rain drifting down to soak his hospital issued pyjama's. Apart from his wand, that was all he had to his name.

Dobby had arrived moments later with a thick robe and slippers, hiccupping with tears as he dressed Harry, who had slid to the ground in a disbelieving heap. Dobby had insisted on them waiting where they were for a moment and had produced a huge umbrella, putting it up and standing so that Harry was sheltered from the mist. The robe had been charmed to warm him, as had the slippers, and by the time Winky arrived with all of his possessions, Harry was at least a little more coherent than the weeping elves. Dobby and Winky had insisted that he bind them to him at once, and Harry had been in no fit state to turn them away.

Only seconds after he felt the bond seal itself to his magic, a Goblin had appeared with a sharp crack. The elves had stopped weeping by that point and for a moment, it was unlikely that they were going to let this new arrival anywhere near Harry at all.

The Goblin's name was Cleaver, and he was representing the Gringott's Curse Breaking Department. Gringott's was an international bank, and it appeared that the Goblins in England had identified several key curse breaking traits in Harry, and had passed that information along to their compatriots in France. Harry was offered an apprenticeship with the Department, based upon his success in finding and destroying Voldemort's Horcruxes.

Fate had a third surprise in store for Harry, namely one Rubeus Hagrid. The half giant had gone immediately to France, once word about Harry's exile had got out, resigning from his beloved position at Hogwarts. Hagrid had gone to work for Madame Maxime, managing her own collection of magical creatures, and had made Harry live with him in his ample quarters above the fine Beaubaxton stables until Harry had proven that he was once more in good health. Between the mothering of his elves, and Hagrid's tender mercies, Harry had recovered both his strength and spirits in fairly short order.

The rest was history. Harry had learned a lot very quickly, and had passed through his apprenticeship with honours. He'd learned to research, catalogue, and record better than he had at school, skills that would no doubt shock Hermione if she'd been there to see it. He'd spent quite a bit of time after gaining his mastery working on various family heirlooms brought to the bank by its more prestigious customers, but the work had not held his attention. Then the opportunity to accompany a senior curse breaker – a man who'd earned his Mastery over three decades ago – had come up and Harry had leapt at it. To assuage the worries and concerns of his friend, whom he saw every second or third day, Harry had charmed a pair of tin boxes, and left one with Hagrid. They used them to send letters and photographs to each other instantaneously, as Harry encountered quite a few beasts that Hagrid would find interesting and misunderstood. Harry had gotten used to helping out when he went to visit the half giant, eventually coming to understand Hagrid's fascination with the beasts he loved.

Fortunately, Dobby and Winky didn't mind that they were tent elves instead of house elves, and Harry had taken to expedition life with gusto. Henri Dupree was not the easiest man to work with, but Harry had learnt a lot from him in the last four months, and was hoping that when the man retired next year Harry would be eligible to form his own curse breaking team for Gringott's.

Their current site was proving to be problematic. They had located the tomb that they were interested in, and had disabled enough of the external wards to allow them to get close to the entrance. Unfortunately, they hadn't got any further. The team linguist had identified that additional objects were required to disable the rest of the wards, but as she was still working on her translation, things had come to a halt.

Harry had suspected that there were other, lesser tombs in the area, and had gotten Dupree's permission to look for them while the team waited. They'd done all the research and preparation they could on the current tomb, and Harry hated sitting around waiting. Most of the team had chosen to apparate back to Cairo to wait in comfort, but Harry preferred to keep investigating the area. Bazaar's and marketplaces were all well and good, but he had seen enough of them for the moment, and the nightclubs were all about one-night stands, which he preferred to avoid. He wasn't living the life of a monk, but neither did he want to jump into intimacy with strangers.

His wandering attention was recalled by a flash of movement and colour in one of the nearby trenches. Curious about what it was, he directed the carpet into a shallow dive, and went to investigate.

0o0o0o0

Dear Hagrid,

Thanks for the pictures of the Auguries! They do look magnificent, I can tell by their plumage that you've taken fantastic care of them; it was definitely the right decision to send them to you for their recovery. Tweedledum has never looked better, especially now that his feathers have grown back, and Tweedledee looks to have put some much needed weight on. Thanks also for the clipping announcing the outcome of their previous owner's trial. No matter how hard Dobby tries, he cannot always get a newspaper that is in English and at the end of the day my translation spells don't always come out as accurate as they could.

News from the dig – I found four new tombs while we were waiting for the latest translations on the main tomb, much to Dupree's disgust. I enclose (on the back) a sketch of one of the beasts depicted on the tomb. I haven't been able to find it in any of the books in my personal library (thank you again for directing me to so many great sources) but I've got a few more books on order (no surprise there, when haven't I?) and I'm hoping that it will be in there. Whatever it is, I wouldn't like to meet it in a dark alley.

The photo's are of a Hippogriff that I found entangled in some barbed wire near the camp. I think that it tried to land in the dark and got its legs tangled, which made it fall into one of the trenches. I don't think it was there for many hours before I spotted it, but as you can see it was there long enough to do some serious damage to its left foreleg. Luckily, his wings weren't damaged in the fall or the subsequent attempts to get free. I got him freed and healed (see photos three and four especially) but I have a feeling that he will be lame in that leg. Thankfully, he hadn't broken any bones, and he let me close enough to put on that salve you sent for the Anaconda in Peru. That seemed to do the trick and I've got it resting comfortably for now (see photo five). If there's anything that I'm missing, let me know, and I'll see to it. I called him Brightfeather due to the single white feather he has at each wingtip – quite a startling contrast to his steel blue coat! He seemed to like the name, and although I don't expect that he'll hang around once he's well, it's nice to see such a beautiful Hippogriff.

Dobby thanks you for the knitted blanket you sent me; he finds it very useful to wrap me in when I go to sleep on the couch. Before you start scolding, I've usually fallen asleep over a fiction book, not a work one, and besides, Winky has taken to locking me out of the library after dinner anyway! I think I'll have to keep you three separated the next time we're all in France together!

Give my best wishes to Madame Maxime. And of course, all my love and best wishes to you as well.

Harry.

0o0o0o0

"Hey Harry," the woman's voice broke into his thoughts and he grinned, squinting up into the sunlight. There were no trees out here of course, but shade could be made with a cloth at the right angle, and he'd added what he called an annex and what Dobby called a porch to the front of his tent so they could leave the front door open all the time. One handy spell to keep the bugs out and they were set. Dobby had set up a canvas chair for him, Winky had brought him a long cool glass of lemon lime and bitters, and Harry was annotating his journal with sketches of the four mounds.

"Good morning Mrs Vecchio," he waved a hand and a second canvas chair appeared. Francesca Vecchio was a brown eyed, slender witch with stylishly short hair. She was the team's linguist, though she didn't live at the base camp full time. Dupree would send her back to France or Italy every few weeks, claiming he had no further need of her, and then recall her when his latest idea fell through. Harry was beginning to get the feeling that Henri was not in top form here.

"Very funny, Potter," Francesca settled herself into the chair, her loose cotton robes fluttering around her. Winky appeared with a frosted glass of water for his guest and was thanked with a charming smile, "You wanted to see me?"

"Yeah, I was hoping you could have a look at the writings on the smaller tombs I discovered," Harry opened his journal to the right page and handed it over, "Based on your translation of the major tomb I had a go at it – as you can see – but I'm fairly sure its completely wrong."

"Yup," she drawled, and then snickered, "So wrong it's funny. Leave the languages to the linguist, and I won't tell you how to do your job either."

"That's no fun!" Harry pretended to complain, and then settled back quietly to watch her work. Francesca knew a frightening number of languages, and spoke them fluently in the accent of a native. It was something that she'd done since she was a child, and living in Rome, she had the perfect opportunity to pick up a wide variety of both living and dead dialects. She was trained as a historian in the Muggle world, and Gringott's had hired her to translate for curse breaking teams all over the northern hemisphere.

Harry didn't mind that she had no respect at all for his talents in languages. He'd managed to pick up a smattering of French, Italian, Polish and Arabic since he'd joined Gringott's, but English was always going to be his main language and in the four languages he'd begun to learn he would always be marked as a hopeless outsider. He did all right in Latin, and of course, he could cast a spell in just about any language there was, but that was more a function of intent and ability, not to mention lessons learned on a battlefield, than actual linguistic skill.

"I think…" Francesca trailed off for a moment, and then smiled, looking up at him happily, "I think that these four little tombs hold the keys for the larger one! If you and Dupree deactivate their defences first, then you'll find the four objects that the main tomb describes to unlock its wards."

"Ah," Harry sighed, "I was afraid of that. Dupree will lose sole control of the main site if we use goods from my discoveries."

"Harry, what on earth is this job about? Finding and recording history, or getting rich from treasure hunting?" Francesca scolded and he held up a hand to placate her. Some of the curse breakers that worked for Gringott's were little more than grave robbers. Harry's Master in France had been almost rabid about the proper survey, documentation and treatment of any tomb or vault that was uncovered by the curse breaking teams, and Harry had picked up his Master's enthusiasm. It was akin to Muggle archaeology in a way, and Harry had always loved solving puzzles and little mysteries, which made working for Gringott's unexpectedly his dream job.

"You and I both know it's about the discovery and adding to the body of evidence," he said firmly, giving her a jaundiced glare, "So don't go all righteous on me, ok? We both know that Dupree is retiring soon, and to lose control of the site like this is not a good thing."

"Because he should have anticipated all of this and ordered you to look. Instead it's on the record that you requested permission to investigate on your own initiative," Francesca sighed. The serious Masters were the ones that publish, both in the journals for their profession as well as books. There was talk that Dupree was having a biography written about his career, and it wouldn't do to suggest that at the end he'd been forced to rely on a Master that was new to the field, even if Harry had been working with the man for months.

"It can't be helped, Harry," Francesca said firmly, "Dupree needs to know so we can call the team back and get started on cataloguing and entering your four tombs."

A curse breaker employed by Gringott's had to comply with a surprising number of health and safety rules. For instance, until the main wards were confirmed down and safe, no one could enter a tomb without a registered Healer being on site. Their current Healer was in Cairo, as were Dupree's two apprentices. Harry sighed and drained the last of his drink before putting the glass down carefully and lunging up out of his comfortable canvas chair. He hauled Francesca up as well and retrieved his journal and her notes.

"May as well get it over with," he muttered, "Dupree will at least want to see the sites for himself, and you need to make an in-person visit to ensure I didn't transcribe anything incorrectly."

"Don't be so defeatist," Francesca replied, pulling a squashed cotton hat from a fold of her robes and shaking it into rough shape, "Besides, there's already talk about this dig – I've been called back more often than a yo-yo."

Harry grinned, straightened the crooked hat and headed out into the bright sunshine, grateful that he'd learned a charm that darkened his glasses when he stepped into the sunlight so he didn't have to squint. The upcoming meeting wasn't going to be pleasant, by any stretch of the imagination.

0o0o0o0

_**Extract from 'Harry Potter: The Man behind the Legend. An Unofficial Biography'**_

…_Having gained his Mastery in Curse Breaking at such a young age, in fact, he was the youngest recorded Master in the craft, it came as no surprise that Harry Potter took charge of his own team only two and a half years after his exile. In true Potter fashion, his team was made up of a wide cross section of Society, from several different countries, and even different magical races. Not satisfied with breaching the magical racial barriers, Harry Potter also took the step of insisting that his team be made of dedicated families and couples, inviting spouses with complimentary skills to accompany his team from site to site._

_Of course, with typical luck Harry Potter encountered his five most important sites in the first five years with his team. These five sites not only had great significance in the field of Curse Breaking, they had an impact on Harry Potter's life that was so significant that to this day they influence his actions and work…_

0o0o0o0

Interviewing people was a lot more draining than Harry had ever expected. Francesca at least had agreed to his job offer right away, and her husband was a Healer, interested in pursuing a second Mastery in Charms, which was the most common cause of spell damage. The opportunity to travel would help him with research and access to unique spells and potions ingredients, and Francesca had admitted that they'd wanted to start a family. It had been a win-win deal for all of them, and Harry genuinely liked Armando.

Gringott's was apparently going to send him off to look at an area where there was significant magical leakage of an organic nature. After the Horcruxes, Harry had naturally specialised in organic curses, though he managed just fine with the inorganic ones as well. Given that the area was remote, he had stipulated that any applicants should be willing to bring their spouses or families with them, as organic curses took the longest to crack, and he didn't want to have to keep stopping because someone needed to go home.

He'd already hired an older man with a very laconic nature by the name of Harding Welsh, who had two young children and a lovely young fiery spirited wife by the name of Elaine. They were both adept in the field of arithmancy, which Harry felt was not one of his greatest strengths, though he could get by when he needed to. The couple planned to share the child rearing and arithmancy duties between them, and Elaine had already confided to Harry that this was the opportunity of a lifetime for them. They hated being apart, and hated being left out of the fieldwork, so bringing the children with them made sense. Not many team leaders were too keen on children, but Harry was happy to have them along provided they were adequately supervised. Tents could be remarkably comfortable and he saw no reason not to broaden children's minds with travel.

He needed at least one more person along to assist with research and casting, and was waiting to interview a Wizard by the name of Ferdinand Bolero when there was a crash outside the small office he'd been temporarily allotted, which was followed by a lot of swearing in Gobbledegook. Harry got up and looked out of the door cautiously, then moved to help the two Goblins that were buried under a mound of coins, which were still pouring from an overturned chest.

One of the Goblins turned out to be Clawhammer – someone that he'd trained with for a short while before their specialities diverged. Clawhammer had a particularly foul mouth and seemed to find Harry swearing in Gobbledegook hilarious. Harry was careful not to use the words and phrases he'd learned in public, mainly because he wasn't sure that Clawhammer had accurately translated what he was saying into English; with Harry's luck, he'd mortally insult someone, or completely humiliate himself.

"Thanks Potter," Clawhammer grumbled grudgingly once the trunk had been put upright and the excess coins – faked by the trunk and therefore worthless – had been banished.

"What happened?" Harry grinned, not bothering to disguise his amusement, and Clawhammer growled at his hapless companion. The other Goblin was not as nattily dressed as Clawhammer, and Harry suspected that the broken lace on his shoe had been the reason for the accident; he must have tripped and dropped his end of the trunk.

"Trinket here has a bad luck curse on him, and he was assigned to help me move the trunk. He's useless in the field – every expedition he accompanies is fruitless or a complete failure and his family are completely shamed," Clawhammer spat on the floor through his fingers, as if to ward off the bad luck while Trinket glowered at them both. Harry was glad that he hadn't been standing too close to his associate when he'd started spitting, and regarded the new Goblin with professional curiosity.

"So why hasn't someone taken the curse off?" Harry frowned, "Isn't that the whole point of this department?"

By phrasing it that way, he was implying that Trinket wasn't completely at fault, which seemed the safest way to deal with the introduction. Goblins could be touchy about this sort of thing, especially if it had been announced that they were a blot on the family's stature. Trinket huffed and folded his arms while Clawhammer rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"No one can detect the unprintable curse," Clawhammer snarled, "But of course the youngest Master of Gringott's hasn't had a look yet. Well go on then! Prove all of us wrong!"

Realising that he'd backed himself into something of a corner Harry sighed and flicked his wand out of his sleeve. He'd chosen to wear casual Muggle clothes today, and his worn boots squeaked on the floor as he carefully approached the scowling Trinket.

"With your permission?" he asked, though it was more out of habit than anything else. Clawhammer had challenged him to the examination, which meant that Trinket could only refuse if he felt his life was threatened. The few people and Goblins that had been passing in the hallways all stopped to look, which indicated to Harry that Trinket was well known in this branch of Gringott's. Harry had trained in France, and spent a bit of time in Rome before coming to Spain to interview Mr Bolero, who was now waiting by the office Harry had been loaned.

Trinket nodded grudgingly and Harry flicked the standard diagnostic spell he used to trace magical energies over the Goblin. There was nothing out of the ordinary there, Trinket had a standard magical core for a Goblin, and used no accessories or items of clothing that required magic.

"You find that the curse interferes with any magical fields that you enter or wear?" Harry asked, frowning in curiosity and Trinket nodded cautiously. Harry flicked a second spell over the Goblin, seeking outside interference this time, as it was obvious that whatever was plaguing the being in front of him was not being caused by an internally anchored source. The second spell sent back positive trace and Harry hummed under his breath, sending the spell out again. He was shuffling through his memories of Hagrid's classes and letters, something about the situation stirring a chord in his mind.

"Have you ever been to South Africa?" Harry asked as the positive traces increased, and Trinket's eyes widened in surprise.

"That was his only successful field trip," Clawhammer confirmed in an odd tone, and Harry clicked his fingers. Hagrid's amused voice and the taste of fire whiskey rose in Harry's mind.

"Accio Krugerand!" he snapped and drew a quick cage in the air as a small creature shrieked in protest and came sailing out of the shadows. The people in the hallway jumped in shock as the cage rattled fiercely and Harry reinforced the spell quickly, not wanting the vindictive thing to transfer its attentions to him.

"What is _that_?" Clawhammer leaned in cautiously and Harry reached out a hand to pull him back. Inside the magically reinforced wire, a small and very gangly monkey paced and snarled, displaying disconcertingly long teeth. Its fur rippled in a variety of colours as it tried to camouflage itself against the cage, but Harry had anticipated that and made the wire nearly transparent, something that the creature couldn't mimic.

"It's a Krugerand," he murmured, "Better known as a bad luck monkey. They live in South Africa mainly, and like the vibes given off by cursed objects. At a guess, Trinket here somehow attracted its attention and then when all the curse breakers tried to get rid of it, they made it mad. Because it was fixated only on Trinket, its attentions presented as a curse, but of course there would be nothing for the Masters to detect because it does all of its mischief manually, not magically. It does have a small amount of innate magic, which is what my second spell detected."

"How do you kill it?" Trinket snarled and Harry shook his head, holding up a hand in warning. That was a bad idea with a capital Yikes.

"Killing a Krugerand is not a wise thing to do. They release all of their innate magic in death, and that in turn seeps into the surrounding area and destabilises it. You really would end up cursed, and there would be no way to lift it. Fortunately, Krugerand's can be distracted. What are you planning to do with that trunk of yours Clawhammer?"

"Sawtooth wants to display it," Clawhammer shrugged, "Why?"

"The spells on it would be sufficient to keep the Krugerand in place for thirty days, which is how long it will take for it to lose track of Trinket and myself. After that, the Krugerand will probably consider the trunk its home and act to protect it from thieves, which is what it probably thought Trinket was when he attracted its attention. South African Wizards were known to breed these creatures as additional security for their treasures," Harry shrugged, "As long as Sawtooth supplies it with insects the Krugerand would be happy enough to stay in one spot and not bother anyone."

"Stick it in then," Clawhammer gave Trinket an odd look, "I've got things to do."

Harry levitated the cage into the trunk and they shut it securely. Trinket whirled on his heels and stormed away, and Harry turned to the waiting Ferdinand Bolero, ushering the flamboyantly dressed Wizard into the borrowed office and turning his mind once more to the interview process.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer – JKR and several other companies etc owns the characters that you recognise

**0o0o0o0**

**FIRST TOMB**

**0o0o0o0**

"Ferdi! Two paces left!" Harry called and waited until his assistant had moved as requested. He squinted through the trees until he spotted Trinket standing in his assigned spot and then carefully cast the spell again. This time the reaction was one hundred percent positive and Harry set the marking spells that would let them orient the next phase of the search accurately before calling it a day and sending everyone back to the camp.

The Peruvian jungle was a little more steamy than Harry liked, but he appreciated the beauty of the rioting plants and animals around him more than the stark beauty of the desert. There were also a lot more snakes in the area that wanted to chat, and Harry had even gleaned a clue or two from what they had said. The tomb they were searching for had been hidden at the decedents request by a Wizard that was known to have invented several classes of curses that were still in use today. It was a singular honour for Harry to be chosen to locate this tomb, as the curses and wards upon it were of interest to the entire profession. Harry would have several articles worth of material to publish, a prospect that wasn't to be taken lightly.

With that in mind, he had decided not to rush the locating of the tomb, even if it meant that Francesca was sitting around her tent waiting for work. Armando didn't seem to mind; in fact, Harry had the distinct impression that Mr Vecchio was finding creative ways to distract his wife from her boredom.

Ferdi waved to Harry as they reached the camp and the former Boy Who Lived waved back as his assistant ducked into his personal tent. It was a garish colour, but then again Ferdi favoured bright colours and flamboyant styles, so Harry wasn't too surprised. Trinket thought that both the tent and its owner were a waste of space, and couldn't see why Harry had agreed to keep Ferdi on once Trinket had presented himself to Harry's personal service.

Apparently, when a Goblin was… well, written off really… by his Clan and peers, the person or being that 'redeemed' them in the eyes of Goblin society became their … master wasn't exactly the right term, but it was close. Trinket considered that he owed Harry his life and standing, and therefore was entirely at Harry's command for the rest of the Humans natural life. Once Harry had understood the ramifications of his actions, he decided to take Trinket out into the field as a member of the team, and was hoping that the Goblin would integrate himself with the rest of the group. Trinket had been isolated by his peers and Clan, and the few times Harry had seen him interact with another Goblin had been unpleasant to say the least. Time apart from Goblin society, doing the work that he had trained to do, should help Trinket regain some of his standing in his own right.

"Potter," Trinket barked, "Have you further need of me this day?"

These words were said to him every time they returned to the camp at dinnertime, and Harry hated hearing them. He didn't even treat his house elves as if they were bonded slaves, though by magical lore they were. As far as Harry was concerned, the words were a blow to his and Trinket's pride, and kept them from developing anything like a true friendship.

"No. Thank you for your efforts today," Harry smiled and Trinket snorted and stomped off to his own tent. Harry sighed and stepped into his own tent, toeing off his boots and stretching the tension out of his shoulders. This site was being particularly difficult, and he had a feeling that the real troubles were yet to come, a sense that he had honed on the battlefield.

"Good evening Winky," he smiled down at the elf that had appeared to take his boots away for cleaning. She smiled up at him happily, greatly improved from the elf that he had found in Hogwarts kitchens, addicted to butter beer. Her neat toga was made of a towel that he had bought especially for her in Lima – the printed border of flowering plants giving her the air of a well-dressed girl. Dobby had been ecstatic with his violently patterned and coloured towel, though it made Harry dizzy to look at if the elf was moving too quickly.

"Good evening Master Harry," Winky piped, "Dinner is being ready in twenty minutes."

"Lovely," Harry sighed, "I'll be in the library."

His elf nodded and Harry headed across the living area, past the comfortable overstuffed couches and low tables and ducking through the heavy curtain that served as a door. His library was spelled to maintain a temperature and humidity controlled climate that wouldn't damage the books, and he sighed in relief to be out of the wet heat that blanketed the jungle outside the tent. He dropped his journal onto the desk that he'd bought in the markets of Rome and dropped himself into the comfortable leather chair in front of it.

The desk was an oddity that had caught his attention straight away. It was large, solid, made of dark wood with a faded red leather writing surface and gold leaf decoration around the edges. It had a multitude of drawers on either side of the kneehole and it was these that were the key to the oddity. By pulling specific drawers out a set number of inches, Harry could in effect open a series of secret drawers, panels and hiding places, the inches on the drawers acting as a kind of combination lock; the desk was a combination of writing surface and safe. Harry had spent days discovering how each panel and space could be unlocked, as fascinated as a child with a new toy.

He reached into the upper drawer now and pulled out the map that he had started upon arrival, charting the area of magical leakage. He updated it with today's data and spent some time annotating the type of leakage and noting in his journal possible causes. A quick browse of the shelves located three books that might shed light on the matter, and then Winky was clearing her throat in the doorway, hands on hips.

"It has been fifty minutes, Master Harry," she scolded, "You is late for you dinner."

"Sorry Winky," Harry gathered up his books and journal, though he knew better than to think the elf would let him work while he ate, "I'm coming right now."

Winky tutted under her breath and Harry concealed a grin as he headed for the door. When it was just the three of them, both Dobby and Winky tended to treat him like an absent-minded child rather than a Master. They only practiced elf manners on him when there was company present at their own insistence, and Harry wouldn't have it any other way. Hagrid was of course exempt from those rules as Hagrid had helped the elves nurse him to health at the beginning of his exile. They were a family of sorts, and Harry was happy to have them with him.

After all, it wasn't as if he had anyone else any more.

0o0o0o0

(Further authors note – I aint a historian so my dates are probably well off here…)

Harry leaned back and pushed up his glasses to rub a hand over his eyes. Around them, the jungle life continued its daily cacophony, a sound that had become background noise the longer they had camped at this site. The papers and pages on the table in front of him ruffled in the slight breeze and Harding's pungent cigar smoke wafted over him for a moment. The team was meeting in the communal marquee, which was basically a canvas roof strung over a long table, surrounded by comfortable chairs.

"I shoulda been a pastry chef," he muttered and Francesca snorted at him. She didn't seem upset at all by what she had just told him, which meant that either she had a 'but' hidden up her sleeve or the full ramifications hadn't sunk in for her. Harry had a feeling that Harding knew exactly what was going on, but hadn't committed himself one way or the other yet.

"Let me see if I've got this straight," Harry sighed, "The writings on the tomb door seem to indicate that this tomb was indeed ensorcelled by Anacosta, a contemporary of the Mayan _and_ Aztec peoples. He was hired by a very wealthy patron to protect said patrons tomb and wealth upon that mans death. In order to do so, Anacosta took the very large and fabulous gem in the centre of the door and used it to power the tombs defences. Am I on track so far?"

"Yes," Francesca nodded, and Ferdi frowned, looking up from his note taking. He was wearing floral print robes today and very nearly blended into the jungle around him.

"How does a gem, even a really big one, power a series of magical defences?" Ferdi asked, "I mean, doesn't something like that have a limited shelf life?"

"Yes," Trinket answered, as this was his area of expertise, "Something that size should only have worked for a decade at the most."

"I date the site at over ten thousand years," Harry answered Ferdi's next question before it was asked, "And that gem, which if my suspicions are correct is a diamond, can't have powered the defences for so long unless it was adulterated."

"With what? What could you possibly add to a diamond to make it power defensive spells for over ten thousand years?" Francesca gasped, and Harry sighed again. Being a pastry chef would have been so much simpler…

"You could ensoul it," he muttered, "A living soul, caught in the gem, which would create an almost eternal power source. Moreover, it would have to be a soul that harboured magic, so it couldn't be an animal. Anacosta was the sorcerer who did the initial work on the rituals that eventually allowed the creation of Horcruxes."

"So that diamond contains a person's soul?" Ferdi looked ill, "That's disgusting!"

"A child's soul," Harry corrected him, "Probably no more than three years of age, because that is when most children show magical aptitude. Additionally it had been proven that the… older the soul, the larger the object containing it must be, provided of course that soul is housed in its entirety, not split into pieces."

"Which you know because you had to destroy all those Horcruxes in the UK," Harding mused, "Do you have any reference books on it?"

"Yeah, you can borrow them if you like," Harry nodded, not wanting to linger on his past. It was not something he discussed with his team, "The problem we are now faced with is how to disable those defences without killing the soul trapped in the diamond."

"Because the diamond is worth a lot more whole," Trinket nodded, rubbing his hands together. Harry had to remind himself that the Goblin probably treated the whole problem as academic, which allowed him not to hex the green being where he sat.

"Because I have never committed infanticide and I don't intend to start," Harry said firmly, "Over six thousand years is a long time, and whatever we do we need to be ethical about our treatment of that child, whoever they were."

Francesca nodded and pulled her original notes closer to her side of the table. Armando had moved closer to his wife, and Harry thought it was a sure bet he had a hand on her leg beneath the table.

"There are still a few small panels I haven't translated yet," she announced, "And I want to go over the main panels again, just in case I've missed something subtle."

"I'll come get those books from you and I can contact the Peruvian Central Library for more information about Anacosta," Ferdi added, "And if you can tell me who is buried in this tomb I can look for background information on them."

"If you can get the wards up into visible range, Elaine and I can start charting them for you. That may help us with any ritual to desoul that gem," Harding added, and Trinket nodded his agreement. The Goblin was good at getting wards to flare, and Harry was good at sustaining them, so between the two of them the arithmancers should have plenty of time for their charting.

"Lets get on with it then," Harry sighed, "Ferdi, help yourself to the library, ok?"

"Just the words I like to hear," Ferdi chirped and began gathering his papers together. Harry rolled his eyes and shut his own journal, the copies of the translations that Francesca had given him merging into the pages as the spells he'd layered on the leather book activated. Any piece of paper or photograph that he placed inside his site journals were merged into the book automatically, which saved him looking for loose notes. It was a spell that Harry would have liked to show Hermione.

Harding and Trinket were already walking into the jungle, following the trail of markers that Harry had set out to lead them to the tomb. Although they were weakened by time, the misdirection wards had posed a very real threat to his people and Harry didn't want to have to cancel their work and form search parties because someone had gotten lost.

"Harry," Francesca put her hand on his wrist, "You won't have to kill this soul. We'll work something out."

"Thanks, Frannie," he smiled at her, "I know we will."

Failing this task was simply not an option.

0o0o0o0

Armando dropped a book in front of Harry, open to a diagram that looked rather… uncomfortable.

"Hello Armando," Harry smiled, "What's this?"

"A possible solution to the issue with the Soul Gems," Armando settled into a chair opposite Harry, and folded his arms on the long table where the team held its meetings and communal meals. Harry had been working there, recreating the intricate web of spells and defences that the Soul Gem powered in diagram form, though Harding and Elaine would probably have a better version of their own.

Harry believed in redundancies.

"What is it then?" Harry leaned back in his chair and shot a wincing glance at the diagram again. Armando sniggered at him – there was no better way to describe it – and Harry rolled his eyes. He may have spent a lot of time under the care of various health professionals, but that didn't mean he wanted to know all the ins and outs of the things that could go wrong with the average human body.

"There are… lots of ways to get a person pregnant," Armando's words took Harry by surprise, "Especially people who aren't supposed to get pregnant."

"Like men?" Harry winced, "Galloping Hippogriffs…"

"Like men," Armando nodded, "It involves a very serious ritual that allows the man in question to form the necessary parts to carry and birth a baby, followed by a spell that works on the basis of taking the essence of the father to be and creating a way for it to become fertile, as with a woman. Then the essence of the other parent is added to that of the father to be, and that becomes the child."

"And you're showing me this because… you think that the ritual could be performed with the Soul Gem standing in place of the second father," Harry realised, "Basically you'd use the contents of the gem to ensoul the new life."

"Yes," Armando nodded, "However, Francesca and I talked it over, and we would like her to stand in the place of the father to be. We're planning to have a family anyway – and we both come from very large families – I would be happy for her first child to be conceived so… honourably."

"Do you think that Elaine and Harding could tailor the ritual that is mentioned in your book? Would tampering with the ritual be a problem?" Harry pulled the book closer and read it through quickly, committing the key points to memory as he read. Now that he knew the reason for the diagram it was actually rather interesting, something that he may have contemplated doing in another, happier, lifetime.

"It could be possible. It is certainly worth asking them," Armando smiled and shrugged with studied carelessness, "Elaine would not be able to take the place of the father to be anyway. I believe she is already pregnant again."

"Yes, she's about two months along, though she doesn't know that I know," Harry murmured gently, "They found out just after they were offered the job, but didn't tell me because they thought that I'd withdraw the offer."

"How did you find out?" Armando tilted his head and Harry grinned.

"Winky says so," he shrugged, "Elves have a way to sense these things."

"Ah," Armando nodded, "Shall we ask about these changes to the ritual then?"

"Yep," Harry nodded, and they got up, "Armando… thanks. I was worried that we'd have to sacrifice the soul in order to enter the tomb. I really didn't want to commit infanticide."

"Nor did I," Armando agreed, "And you are welcome, Harry."

0o0o0o0

Dear Hagrid,

I know its been too long between letters, and I'm sorry for that. We had a rather unexpected complication on the site, and I've been trying to get things straightened out once more.

I told you in my last letter about the Soul Gem, and the proposed ritual to free it from the defences on the tomb. We conducted it as discussed, but things went wrong, and now I'm in a difficult position, not only in regard to the site, but also in regard to life in general.

The ritual did work, though not exactly, as we'd planned. We did manage to take down the defences though, and have discovered evidence inside the tomb that Anacosta has intended to repeat his services for four other clients. The site we are in is the oldest, but now that we have entered it, the others will also begin to destabilise, according to Anacosta's plans. We will have to locate the other four within the next four to five years if we want to prevent the Soul Gems from dying. Luckily, the information that Anacosta left behind gives us enough clues to find the next oldest tomb. We're hoping that this is the case with all of them, though we are planning to gather as much evidence as we can, just in case.

Meanwhile, the contents of the tomb, not to mention the empty Soul Gem itself, are every bit as promising as we'd been led to believe, and I think that we'll be here for another five months. After that, I'll be heading for Rome with the team. We may leave sooner than that, but definitely no later.

It may seem like an odd deadline, five months, but Armando has insisted. This brings me to the difficult position that I'm in. You remember that Armando and Francesca agreed that she would take the Soul Gem's life into her, and carry that baby to be their first-born. Although Elaine and Harding tailored things so that a woman would receive the child, things went wrong from the very beginning. We were lucky that everyone involved knew both the new and old ritual so well and could switch from one to the other, because the ritual didn't work for Francesca.

As far as we can tell the Soul Gem itself refused her, and chose me in her place. All I can think is that when I destroyed the part of Voldemort that was lodged within me, I somehow left myself open to others… this cursed scar of mine is once again acting as a conduit, but this time with very unexpected consequences. I suppose I should stop beating around the bush and just tell you…

I'm pregnant.

You can't know how hard that was to write… let alone to accept. Wizards only carry for six months; apparently, their magic speeds up the process, hence the five-month deadline. Armando doesn't want to deliver me in a jungle, and I'm… well terrified really. All of a sudden I'm about to be a parent. I'm not the last Potter any more. And the frightening part of it is that there are four more tombs out there, and all of them powered by Soul Gems. If I go anywhere near them the chances are that this baby that I'm carrying will have four more brothers and sisters.

I have too many questions whirling around my brain, Hagrid. I don't know if I'll be able to be a good Dad to one baby, let alone five. I mean, what sort of life can I give them? Travelling around the world hunting tombs and cursed artefacts is all well and good when its just yourself, but for children? Sure, Harding and Elaine have their children with them, but they also have each other. Should I just have the baby and then give it up? Even looking at that last question on the page makes me want to be sick. I don't think I could do that, but how can I keep it? Keep them?

I'm going to stop now, before I come completely apart at the seams. Obviously, I need to think harder about the future. Its at times like this that I really miss… well, no point in opening that can of worms. I've got you and the elves and pretty soon, I'll also have a…

Looking over it, this is a pretty rubbish letter… sorry Hagrid. I'll write again soon, a better letter than this one.

Hoping you're well,

Harry.

0o0o0o0

Harry looked up from the frieze in front of him when his name was called, shifting cautiously on the small box he'd dragged in to sit on. He was copying the last of the details in front of him by hand, as they had proven to be resistant to both photographs and other magical methods of reproduction, a left over from the wards that they had dismantled. The Soul Gem's power lingered over everything, and probably would for years to come. He was glad that the bank would pay him in gold for the finds that he was turning over to them, as he had no intention at all of keeping a single item from the find, though it was his right to do so, and he had done so at other sites.

Already they'd had several requests from other members of the profession to come and view the site, to come and join the team, and many other things besides. His first article on the nature of the wards had stirred up a froth of interest, though his peers had acknowledged that the newly dubbed 'Five Tombs of Anacosta' were his to discover and document. Harry was beyond relieved to hear that. Not only would this allow him to establish a fortune that would keep his unborn child and any descendants comfortably for several generations, he could at least ensure that the other four Gems were treated with the care they deserved. Not all of his peers were as ethical as Harry when it came to living artefacts. Harry was going to have to be very careful about the information he released on the sites until all of the gems were properly dealt with.

"Harry!" Ferdinand sounded positively panicked and the green-eyed man sighed, finishing the very last line before getting up and walking towards the entrance, wondering if another snake had slithered into the middle of the camp and glad that his team didn't mind when he lapsed into Parseltongue, "Harry!!"

"Here," he called, and stepped out into the sunlight, blinking rapidly to adjust his eyes. They'd been using specially muted wand light inside to avoid damaging the vivid colours that adorned the walls. There were beautiful murals and friezes detailing the life of Anacosta's client inside, valuable simply for the information that they would add to the general body of evidence. Now that the tomb had been opened Harry and Harding had erected wards of their own, designed to preserve the walls and contents in pristine condition.

The clearing where they had camped was awash with the beginning of sunset, the sun shining right in his eyes and making it difficult to separate shadows from objects for a moment.

"Hagrid!" Harry made sense of what he was seeing, and beamed, hurrying forwards, "Its so good to see you! Um… you can put Ferdi down, now."

"He tried t' stun me," Hagrid growled, his wild beard and hair bristling indignantly, "I tol' him 'oo I was an' what I wanted, and 'e tried to stun me!"

"Oh Ferdi," Harry sighed, "Hagrid is family. Surely, you remember the pictures I showed you. They're on the wall of my parlour!"

"He said he was here to take you back to Cologne with him," Ferdi protested, "He said he wasn't going to have you racketing around out here alone! As if we weren't good enough!"

"You got him pregnant!" Hagrid gently shook the flamboyant Wizard in his grip, "I don' call that takin' care o' him!"

Harry laughed, he couldn't help it, and wrapped his hands around Hagrid's fist, gently coaxing the fingers to open and let Ferdi down. He deftly steadied his assistant, patted the indignant Wizard on the shoulder and tugged Hagrid along by the hand he still held.

"I'll sort it out, Ferdi," Harry promised, heading for his tent, where Dobby and Winky were already standing in the doorway, waiting for them, "Meanwhile could you shut the site down for the night? I don't want anyone in there after dark."

"Sure, Harry," Ferdi sighed, "I will see to it."

"Master Harry was going to be late for his dinner!" Dobby scolded, "If Mr Hagrid had not come, Dobby would have!"

"Yes Dobby," Harry sighed, "As you can see Hagrid; they're taking good care of me."

Hagrid humphed and sat on the couch, which didn't even creak in protest. Winky and Dobby must have reinforced it. Harry dropped his journal on the table, and sat beside it, facing the half-giant and putting his hands on Hagrid's knees. He hadn't been expecting Hagrid to come and visit, though he should have realised how alarming his last letter was to the half-giant.

"Are you really that angry with me?" he asked, trepidation colouring his voice, and Hagrid tisked before leaning over, picking Harry up and depositing him on the half giants lap for an all enveloping hug.

"Ah'm not angry at all," Hagrid's voice rumbled in his ear and Harry relaxed a little, the action familiar from his recovery in Hagrid's home above the stables. He'd been a mess, night terrors and half-healed injuries and depression had all combined to make his recovery slow and torturous. Hagrid had held him together through it all, and Harry had clung to the other man's strength until he'd been able to find his own once more.

"I thought for a moment there… sorry Hagrid. I know better," Harry muttered into the beard he was hiding his face in. Hagrid chuckled and petted his back gently.

"Well, I din't exactly have a chance ter say a proper 'ello," he muttered, "What with being hexed an' all."

"Ferdi and the rest of the team are very protective of me," Harry leaned back to look at his friend, "They were… mortified that things had turned out so wrong. I hadn't realised my scar would… well. It's academic now."

"An' yer feelin' ok? Not sick or nothing?" Hagrid looked a little worried, "I 'member how iffy yer tummy can be."

Harry had gone for weeks unable to hold down anything but water and the weakest broth while he recovered. He'd lost a shocking amount of weight, and only his magic reserves had sustained him towards the end. Once his stomach had settled he'd been able to gain some much needed weight, though Dobby and Winky were both hyper vigilant over his meals and snacks. Luckily, he'd discovered a hidden taste for exotic foods, and travelling as they did made it very easy for him to indulge this appetite. In addition, the work involved a surprising amount of exercise, which naturally increased his appetite. He was in the best shape of his life – even fitter than he'd been when he was playing Quidditch.

"I'm fine so far, though it's only three weeks in," Harry promised, "Winky or Dobby would have come and got you if I wasn't. I know you made them promise."

Hagrid blushed, but didn't look bothered by Harry's discovery of his demand on the elves. The half giant hadn't been happy that Harry was commencing fieldwork with his own team so far away from him, and had made Harry's elves promise that they would fetch him the moment Harry needed him, even if Harry didn't think he did. Harry had felt a sense of peace, knowing that there was someone in the world who cared enough about his well being to conspire about him behind his back.

"Well, tha's good to know," Hagrid let him sit up, but wouldn't let Harry off his lap, "Now, little brother, talk ter me."

Harry grinned and slumped against his big brother. Hagrid smiled back and made them both comfortable. Neither of them had been a part of a family for years, and it made a sort of sense that the two orphans adopted each other, even if Hagrid was old enough to be Harry's grandfather.

"Well…" Harry sighed, "I'm scared. I mean, it's a huge responsibility, and… what if I'm a bad dad?"

"Brightfeather don't think so, or he'd never have carried that damaged foal to yer for raising," Hagrid interrupted, "Greywings is doing fine, right?"

"Yes, in fact she's returned to the flight. Her wings have completely recovered and she can keep up now," Harry beamed, "Trinket was relieved to see her go too, I think he was worried that I'd make him muck her out once we realised I was pregnant."

Hagrid chuckled, and Harry bit his lip for a moment.

"You know that the Dursley's… what if I start acting like them?" he rubbed Hagrid's arm absently, soothing the tension that appeared with the mention of his Muggle relatives, now deceased at Voldemort's hand.

"The fact that yer askin' means yer won't," Hagrid sighed, "Harry, yer the gentlest person I ever met, especially considering all yer been through. Yer have great power, but yer don't abuse it or others. Look at the little man out there – yer took good care of him even if he did try an' hex me. Yer coulda hexed him, or let me hurt him an' yer din't."

Harry had always been Hagrid's staunchest defendant, even though the half giant didn't really need a defender. The half giant seemed pleased to know that there was someone there to worry about his care and comfort, despite him being fully-grown and more than competent to do it himself. It was one of the ways they had bound themselves into a family.

"Ferdi didn't mean it," Harry looked up pleadingly, "Please don't be mad at him. The others wouldn't have let him do anything really bad, and Francesca and Trinket were both out there watching. Harding also had his wand out, but he wouldn't have hurt either of you."

"I know lad," Hagrid assured him, "If I'd really been mad, yer little man wouldn't'a had a chance."

"True," Harry nodded, "Ok, so bad parenting aside, what about my work? What sort of parent drags his kids around the world? And I'll be a single parent, which means that I'll have to leave them with Dobby and Winky when I'm at work, which isn't fair on the elves or the kids."

"Yer tent is yer home, Harry," Hagrid shook his head, "Yer front door may open onto a new front yard from time to time, but the home itself won't change, an' that's a stable envir'm'nt righ' there. An' what a wonnerful opportunity fer yer child, to see so much of the world. Besides, yer may find a partner…"

"Hagrid, there's only one person I want. And I'll never see them again," Harry hid his face for a moment, tears brimming in his eyes. His exile had never hurt more than now, knowing that the person he'd wanted to make a family with was forever out of his reach. Never mind the fact that it was for their own safety that Harry had forsaken the people he'd loved in England, there were days when it was a heavy burden to bear.

"Now lad, don't…" Hagrid rocked them for a moment, and Harry held on tightly, forever grateful that this man had given up his beloved Hogwarts to come and take care of Harry when he'd needed him the most.

"Maybe I really should take yer home wit me," Hagrid mumbled, "I din't mean to drag up th' past."

"No, it's ok," Harry wiped his face and smiled up at his brother, "Besides, I think my hormones are kicking in."

Hagrid didn't look convinced, though he did huff a small laugh at the joke. He was still petting Harry's back gently and Harry leaned into it, contentment in his eyes. Only Hagrid could make him feel so safe, and knowing that his friend would just pack him up and carry him off was like finding a safety net that Harry hadn't realised was there.

"So, constant travel and bad parenting aside," Harry shook his head, "How do you do that? Make it seem… commonplace…"

"Talent," Hagrid preened and Harry laughed, slipping from the half giants lap and standing in front of him, hands on hips.

"Well, then Mr Talented, are you ready to be an uncle to the dangerous and misunderstood herd: genus _Potter Familias_? Because I think that… I'd like this baby to have brothers and sisters. I think that if I'm going to do this once, then I want to go the full distance, and have them all."

"Yer may change yer mind after givin' birth," Hagrid muttered, then beamed, "I'm ready to be an uncle to yer children Harry. Are yer ready to be a dad?"

"I am, I really am," Harry smiled and received a toothsome grin in reply. Something in Harry's chest settled down at the decision and he straightened his shoulders, ready to take the future on.

Hagrid got up off the couch and put a hand on Harry's shoulder, his bright eyes looking keenly around Harry's home, with its mismatched furniture styles, colourful draperies and rugs, photos and artefacts on the walls, light streaming in from the ceiling panels.

"Yer gonna need a bigger tent."

The wry comment dissolved Harry into laughter and he led his brother to the dining table, where their evening meal was waiting, along with two beaming elves and an unexpected tent catalogue.

0o0o0o0


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer – JKR and several other companies etc owns the characters that you recognise

0o0o0o0

Harry watched with slightly sorrowful eyes as Brightfeather stumbled through a landing and then limped slowly towards him. Despite his best efforts and Hagrid's best advice, they had been unable to heal all of the damage to the Hippogriff that Harry had met on his first field trip to Egypt. Once healed Brightfeather had indeed flown away a free Hippogriff, but he had kept track of Harry and stopped by the green eyed mans dig sites from time to time.

Sometimes he brought Harry meat, as if to repay the man for feeding him when he'd been unable to hunt for himself. Sometimes he grabbed the other by the back of the neck and threw him onto his back, taking him up into the air to show him something. Harry had thwarted a poaching ring, a smuggling ring, and a rather nasty Dark Rite that way. He and Brightfeather made a fantastic team in the air; Harry's innate understanding of flight making him the ideal passenger.

Thinking that Brightfeather was here about Greywings, Harry turned and summoned the feathers that the foal had left behind, moulting in reaction to the illness she'd suffered through under Harry's vigilant eye. His team thought it odd that Harry spent as much time as he did with the animals they encountered, but he knew that was Hagrid's influence on him. The half giant had a soft spot for just about every creature in the world, the more dangerous the better, and Harry had come to appreciate the beauty of several of those beasts. He still hated Blast Ended Skrewts though, and he wasn't too keen on Acromantula's either.

"Hello Brightfeather," Harry bowed solemnly, though not as deeply as usual. His baby belly was starting to get big enough to interfere with that sort of thing, and Harry found it a bit disconcerting to have to factor in his added girth to his daily activities and movements.

Brightfeather made a soft noise and bowed back regally, and when Harry straightened, the Hippogriff limped forward and gently nudged the rounded tummy that Harry's robes still hid. He smiled and put a hand to his belly, resting it beside the razor sharp beak that could disembowel him in an instant. He wasn't at all worried about the Hippogriff hurting him, though he thought that Francesca was hyperventilating behind him.

"It's a… well I suppose you'd call it a foal, though we call it a baby," Harry spoke as if the beast could understand him perfectly, another habit that he'd picked up from Hagrid. The half giant had always spoken to the creatures he taught them about as if they understood him.

Brightfeather nuzzled the bump and Harry smiled, reaching over to stroke the Hippogriff's crest in response, the gentle touch a reciprocation of the beasts'. Brightfeather stepped back and craned his neck around to a spot between his wings. When he brought his head back, something was dangling and squirming from his beak, though Harry could see he had it in a very careful grip. He put his hands out obediently and deftly caught the small thing, bringing it up to his chest where it latched on with a frightened sound.

"What is it Harry?" Francesca called from her safe distance, and Harry craned his own neck to get a clear look at the thing before it tucked itself under his armpit for safety. Brightfeather made an approving noise and blinked sedately at him before nudging his belly again and then his armpit. Harry blinked as he made the connections and then beamed.

"Thanks, Brightfeather, the baby will love it I'm sure," he said quietly and the Hippogriff nodded before limping back a step and turning carefully, trying not to bump Harry. Harry stepped back, out of its way and got an approving cry, before the Hippogriff lurched into its uneven canter and flapped powerful wings, taking off in a flurry of leaves and dust.

"Harry?" Francesca reminded him she was there by poking him in the arm, "What did it give you? And why did you let it so close to the bambina?"

"Brightfeather would never hurt me or mine," Harry said confidently, clasping his hands across his tummy. It was an oddly comfortable posture and it never failed to make his team smile or snicker.

"What did it give you?" Francesca evidently decided not to argue the point now, though Harry was likely to get an earful from Elaine and Armando about this. Harding and Trinket at least knew that he was completely competent when it came to judging the dangers presented by the magical creatures and beasts they encountered.

"It's a juvenile Emperor Tamarind monkey. They have sort of grey/black/ brown fur, and these beautiful big white moustaches," Harry lifted his arm to give her a glimpse of the shivering monkey that was clutching him, "I'd imagine that Brightfeather or a member of his flight has eaten the rest of its family. He must have detected that I was expecting a foal from when he picked up Greywings. I guess he thinks it will be good practice for me to care for it."

"He didn't take her feathers," Francesca realised, "But they're quite magical. You could make a fortune selling them to a wand maker or a potions master."

"Armando has his brewers licence, and it was his potion that helped Greywings to heal, so here, give them to him for me, would you?" Harry handed them over without second thought, and Francesca rolled her eyes at him. His team thought he had no respect for the power of money, but Harry knew full well that good will was more important at the end of the day.

"Well, good luck with it… what will you call it anyway?" Francesca turned with him and headed for the row of tents lined up behind the communal marquee.

"Madge," Harry murmured, wondering what the monkey ate and if he had anything in the tent that would tide it over until they got appropriate food for it.

"Oh it's a girl?" Francesca winced, no doubt at the name. Harry flashed her his best cheeky grin, pausing outside her tent and holding back the flap so she could enter without dropping her handfuls of feathers.

"No idea," he shrugged one shoulder, "It's short for Your Majesty."

Francesca groaned and then laughed, ducking inside her home.

0o0o0o0

"Hmm," Harry squinted at the map for a moment and then looked over at the notes he'd made on the last frieze, "You know, Trinket, I'm beginning to think that this particular symbol here has nothing to do with language at all."

"Vecchio disagrees," Trinket grunted and Harry sat back, winced as his back protested and altered his posture obediently. Four months into the pregnancy, his back had started to protest just about everything, as the baby belly that Harry was carrying around began to grow beyond easy concealment in his robes. The Goblin reached over and patted his arm without thought, turning his own attention to the symbol that Harry had been pointing at. Ever since he'd become pregnant the Goblin had been a lot more… gentle in his approach to his 'owner'. Madge stirred from her – she had proven to be a girl – place on Harry's shoulder and chattered for a moment.

"I know she does," Harry sighed, scratching the little monkey to settle her again, "But there is no reason that the word 'turtle' should be included in this tomb. There were no turtles in this part of the world when this guy was buried. I think its actually the shape of the next tomb."

"What makes you think that?" Trinket frowned, "If there were no turtles…"

"Anacosta was not from around here," Harry reminded the Goblin, "In fact he was one of the biggest travellers of his time, which is why his work has survived so well; there are so many records of him all over the world. He'd seen so many animals that less travelled people would have thought impossible…"

"This tomb is _not_ shaped like a turtle," Trinket objected, "Anacosta liked to use familiar shapes and materials in his building."

"True," Harry shook his head, "I think we need to have another look at this from the air. You up for a short flight?"

"Are _you_?" Trinket gestured eloquently to the baby belly, and Harry grimaced. The thought of straddling a broom with a beach ball shoved down the front of his pants was not appealing.

"Good thing I've got a flying carpet," Harry hauled himself to his feet and rolled up the diagrams they'd been looking over. Ferdinand was in Lima for the next week, seeing to the security of the site for the next month and a half. The team was due to pull out from the site and return to Rome and the huge library concealed there at the end of the week, as Harry's due date got closer and closer. Elaine was also due not long after him, and Harding was visibly pleased that his wife wouldn't have to give birth in a tent. Francesca had announced her pregnancy a week after the Ritual, and Armando was both elated and concerned to discover that his wife was bearing quads. Harry suspected that the fertility part of the ritual had boosted Francesca's…

"A carpet?" Trinket sounded intrigued, "I've never flown on a carpet before."

"This is a nice little one," Harry paid attention to the Goblin with him instead of his musings, "Seats four, very sturdy. It makes an excellent platform for map work, and it holds up well under spell casting."

"Oh, you used it on Dupree's last site in Malaysia, when the tomb guardian turned out not to be as mythical a beast as everyone thought," Trinket realised, "Didn't it spew fire and poisonous gases?"

"Yup," Harry shuddered and ducked into his tent, heading for the cupboard where he kept the three flying carpets he owned and his broom. Madge leapt down and went to investigate her bowl of fruit and insects, kept freshly stocked by Dobby, "It killed half the team. Francesca was supposed to be there, but she'd been recalled home because of her sisters wedding, thank Circe."

"Dupree died on that one," Trinket sounded pleased, "We all knew he was too old to still be working. From what I heard you'd taken control of his last three digs, though you still gave him the credit."

"Don't speak ill of the dead," Harry said automatically, though it was true, "Dobby! Where are the carpets?"

"Master Harry called?" Dobby appeared, trying to look innocent and unaware, which meant that he and Winky had hidden them and his broom 'for his own safety'. There was a fair bit of that going on at the moment, and Harry did his best not to get too cross. After all, they wanted the best for him.

"Trinket and I need to take a quick look at the tomb from the air. I'm looking for the Scarab," Harry put his hands on his hips. He'd bought a larger twelve seater Persian carpet with a beautiful geometric design, and a mat so small that it would only seat one, and even then, you had to sit cross-legged. It had a dolphin on it, and was such an unusual mixture of blues and green that he hadn't been able to resist. The elves hated the flying carpets, because they'd been raised to see brooms as the proper form of flight, and anything else was likely to be unreliable. Harry wasn't in any shape to get on a broom though and he certainly didn't want to have to argue with Dobby in front of Trinket, because the elf was likely to punish himself.

"Dobby is getting it for you, Master Harry," Dobby promised with drooping ears and Harry made a mental note to reassure both his elves, _again_, that he was not interested in doing anything dangerous or stupid at this late stage of his pregnancy.

"Thank you Dobby," Harry smiled and turned to Trinket, "If you like it, you can have a loan. I don't fly them as often as I used to, and the spell work likes to be refreshed by flight now and then."

Trinket looked agreeable to this, and Dobby reappeared with the carpet floating behind him. Getting on was a bit tricky, but Harry managed and Trinket was fairly quivering with pleasure as they moved slowly to the correct height and took a slow turn around the camp before heading over the tomb. Elaine waved at them from the path as they went overhead, and Trinket called down in an excited manner entirely unlike his usual self.

It didn't take long to get the carpet in position and Harry sent down the spell that would illuminate the wards designed to protect the structure of their discovery. They flared up in a pale blue, which told Harry they were stable. He'd been concerned about letting his team wander through the tomb, as it was so very old and the magic that had been protecting it had been deactivated. He'd cast a few wards of his own, but there was no guarantee that they were perfect.

"Great googamooga," Trinket sounded disgusted, "It is an animal."

"Monkey?" Harry mused, "No, wrong body shape…"

"Kangaroo," Trinket snorted, "I guess Anacosta did curse that rock formation in Australia after all."

Harry tilted his head, and the shape came into focus for him.

"Looks like we've missed a branch off that corridor then," he pointed to the correct place and annotated the map that he'd brought up with them just in case. He also made a mental note to fly over all of Anacosta's sites once the wards were deactivated. It seemed that the sorcerer had concealed some things in the Muggle way as well.

"Looks like Vecchio is going to be annoyed too," Trinket rubbed his hands together and Harry swallowed a grin. The Goblin had been involved in a spectacular swearing contest with Francesca, which he had lost. It was hard to compete against someone who knew so many different languages. Armando had put a stop to it, telling his wife he didn't want his children to hear that sort of language.

"Trinket, would you like to steer?" Harry invited, packing away the map, and the Goblin with him grinned in reply. Harry made sure that he had a good grip on the carpet and let the Goblin assume control of the spells.

The cackling from his new pilot wasn't at all reassuring.

0o0o0o0

_**Extract from 'Harry Potter: The Man Behind the Legend. An Unofficial Biography'**_

_The birth of his first child did little to change the way Harry Potter worked, though it is believed that his eldest son was initially a fussy sleeper. According to sources close to the family, the new father would read aloud to his son from the reference books and maps that he was working on as he tried to soothe the babe to sleep, which may explain why David Potter went on to become a librarian, with a depth of knowledge that rivalled that of many Oracles._

_In addition to the on-going quest to locate and free the children trapped by Sorcerer Anacosta, it is believed that it was at this time that Harry Potter began to think about the working arrangements that later became known as the City of Tents. This became a veritable city of people working in support roles for the families of curse breakers that Harry Potter eventually came to employ. To this day, there is prestige in being known as a member of the founding family of the City of Tents, and the Guild that it came to support._

0o0o0o0

Harry dropped back against the pillows with an agonised cry, panting hard, the last of the pain tearing through him and bleeding away. Armando was muttering in Italian, but Harry was too exhausted to care. The little window beside his bed showed the sun coming up, turning the lead lined roofs a fiery copper colour, reminiscent of the exact shade of hair that …

There was a gasping sound and then a wavering cry, and then Francesca was there, tears streaming down her cheeks as she wiped the sweat from his face and patted him on the chest as he struggled to regain his breath.

"Oh Harry," she whispered, "Oh Harry."

Armando appeared with a small red blob wrapped in the soft blanket that Hagrid had brought with him for the birth. The half giant had wanted to stay, but he hadn't been able to deal with Harry's pain and Francesca had ushered the tearful man out of the door. Harry had half wished that he could have gone too, leaving behind the pain to deal with itself.

"Your son, Harry," Armando beamed, "A beautiful baby boy."

Harry let them put the baby on his chest and Francesca helped position the bottle that he would use to feed his son for the next few months. As the baby suckled avidly, Harry unwrapped him and counted his fingers and toes, stroking back the wisps of black hair.

"Hullo," he mumbled his voice a little hoarse, "I'm the bloke you've been kicking."

And then he burst into tears.

0o0o0o0

"Davy," Hagrid smiled, and Harry nodded, hanging over the arm of Hagrid's chair to watch his son sleep in Hagrid's hand. They were in the parlour of the large house that the entire team had rented, choosing to stay together instead of splitting up. After living so closely in the jungle for so many months, it seemed odd that they would be apart in civilisation.

"David Ronald Potter," Harry said it softly, "For…"

"Ah lad, it's a fine strong name," Hagrid approved, "David means beloved, yer know."

"Yeah," Harry smiled and twitched the folds of blanket around his son. His son, who he was responsible for, for the next seventeen years at least. His son, who would be joined by four other siblings in the next five years. It boggled the mind.

"It's not fair," Elaine complained with a smile from her chair by the window, "You got pregnant after me, and you still get delivered before me."

Harry laughed softly and came to stand next to his arithmancer, taking her hand in his.

"Believe me; I have all the more respect for you because of it. You go three months longer than I did, and you've already done it twice before," he bowed elaborately, pleased that he'd regained his waist, and then straightened, rubbing the back of his head where she'd slapped it lightly.

"And don't you forget it," Elaine nodded, "Still he's a beautiful little boy, Harry."

Harry wrinkled his nose, looking back at his son. The baby's skin was still red and wrinkly, and his head was a funny shape, although Armando promised that would pass. He looked rather ugly to Harry, but then again the green-eyed wizard had never placed much stock in looks. He loved Davy with all his heart, and that was all that mattered to Harry.

"If you say so," he shrugged, "New born babies don't look beautiful to me, but then again, I'm a bloke and we tend not to gush over them like you ladies do."

Elaine slapped at him again and rolled her eyes. Trinket came into the parlour, closing the door quietly behind him, and fortunately preventing any further physical abuse.

"Your new tent is here, Potter," Trinket gestured to the closed door, "Your elves are taking charge of it. What do you want done with the old one?"

"I was thinking I'd stick it in a cupboard somewhere, in case we ever need a spare. We can always transfigure some furnishings for it if needed," Harry shrugged, and Trinket snorted, giving him a rather significant look, "Ok, you guys could. I know, I know, I can break a curse that's over a thousand years old, yet I can't accurately transfigure a stick of wood into a dining table for twelve. Woe is me; I'm a disgrace to wizards everywhere I'm sure."

"As long as you're aware of it," Elaine shrugged and Trinket snorted again before walking on the balls of his feet to Hagrid's side and peering into the sleeping child's face.

"He looks like you Potter," that was a comment that could mean anything, and Harry grinned again. Trinket had insisted on presenting Davy with a small charm that would alert Harry if his son was in danger. Ferdinand had managed to locate a clock like the one that Mrs Weasley had, though this one had three faces on it, one on the front, two on the sides. Harry had put the team on one side, their children on the other side, and his baby on the front.

"I need to talk to you, Potter," Trinket sighed, "Can you leave your son?"

"Hagrid? Is it ok with you?" Harry had no doubts that Hagrid would be happy to sit with Davy for a while, but didn't want to take his friend for granted. Hagrid beamed at him and nodded, and Harry followed Trinket out into the hall and across to the study.

He sat behind the desk and watched Trinket fuss into the chair opposite. Winky popped in with a tea tray and a pointed look, and Harry poured for them both, obediently picking up one of the pastries and sinking his teeth into it. He'd come out of pregnancy slightly underweight, and his elves had been horrified to think that all of the meals they'd made for him hadn't done him any good as his body had passed a lot of it on to the baby. Armando didn't seem too concerned, and Harry wasn't either. He'd felt healthy all through the pregnancy, and had even managed to avoid the worst of the morning sickness, much to Elaine and Francesca's disgust.

Harry sipped at his tea and watched as Trinket fussed with his teacup and nibbled on the ginger biscotti that Hagrid had made yesterday. The ginger was very strong, and the biscotti were rock hard, so Harry and Trinket were the only ones that ate them beside Hagrid, though they ate them for different reasons.

"What did you want to talk to me about, Trinket?" Harry asked after a moment and Trinket sighed, putting the half-gnawed biscotti down on his saucer.

"My father has been in contact with me," he muttered, and swore under his breath for a moment. There was no love lost between Trinket and his estranged Clan, especially as they'd disowned him instead of fighting for him when he was 'cursed' for so many years. The fact that Trinket's Clan had not contacted Harry at the same time as their son was something of a deliberate insult, as Harry was not well liked for redeeming the son they'd thrown away. It pointed out that Trinket's Clan had made a serious error in judgement, something that wouldn't sit well with the Elder of that Clan, or Trinket's father.

"What does he want?" since Harry was Trinket's 'owner', anything that his Clan wanted the Goblin to do had to be approved by Harry first. It was an odd arrangement, and Harry wasn't comfortable with it. He and Trinket were working towards a good friendship though, and that helped ease the tensions. His team also accepted the Goblin and his sometimes-strange worldview, which made Trinket more secure.

"He wants me to marry," Trinket shrugged, the motion not quite disguising his unease, "He has arranged a marriage with a minor daughter of a silver smith."

"Minor daughter?" Harry asked, hoping that she wasn't underage or something.

"Insignificant," Trinket bared his teeth, "Old enough to marry but not of any great value to her Clan, except for the husband she could get them."

"And this will do what for your Clan?" Harry had a feeling there was more to the story and Trinket bared his teeth again, though this time it was in approval for his recognition of Goblin politics. Funny how Harry had learned to tell the difference.

"The marriage will seal a lasting trade agreement for the Clan," was the bald reply, and Harry sighed. He didn't believe that you should marry for any reason other than love, though he was well aware that this was not the case in many different cultures. He focussed on the Goblin opposite, absently noting the difference in appearance from when they'd first met. Trinket had been shabbily dressed, and a little stooped. Now his clothes were well tailored without being gaudy, and his bearing was as proud as any Goblins ever had been. They'd made a small fortune in their latest endeavour and this helped increase Trinket's standing among the rest of his Society, which was probably how his Clan had come to the decision to marry him off.

"Trinket," Harry put the teacup down, "It is entirely at your discretion if you marry this person. If you don't want to then I'll tell your Clan that it is not convenient to me that you marry at this time. Whatever it is you decide I'll back you."

Trinket sat back, a shocked look upon his face.

"You would allow me to choose? You would deceive the Elder of my Clan and my father at my request?" he spluttered, and Harry nodded, shrugging. People tended to forget how much he'd done in his life, especially his team who'd spent six months watching him struggle with an unexpected pregnancy.

"My loyalty is to my team, Trinket. I am in a rather unusual position of power when it comes to you, but at the end of the day all that matters is that my team have what they need, and are able to conduct their affairs without undue harassment. I will back your decision in this matter," Harry's voice was cold and firm. He could see that the Goblin in front of him had suddenly remembered that the man in front of him had commanded an army of his peers in a battle before reaching his majority. He also commanded a significant amount of personal magical power, which he had used to dispatch an ascendant Dark Lord without once using the Killing Curse.

"I… thank you Potter," Trinket got up and offered him a sweeping bow, "I will consider this matter seriously and let you know my decision. You honour me with your trust."

"I look forward to hearing your decision," Harry nodded and let Trinket leave before sealing the door with a privacy spell and letting his breath run out in a whoosh of air. He shook his head and refilled his teacup, judging that it would best if he calmed down before going back to his Davy.

0o0o0o0


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer – JKR and several other companies etc owns the characters that you recognise

**0o0o0o0**

**SECOND TOMB**

**0o0o0o0**

Dear Hagrid,

Well, you'll be glad to know that Davy will finally sleep for several hours straight without being held and read to. Thank Circe that he does! I was ready to give him to Brightfeather and his flight to raise! Brightfeather rejoined us at the First Tomb and inspected Davy pretty thoroughly, and my son patted him on the beak quite happily, babbling all the while. Ferdinand nearly fainted, he was hyperventilating the entire time, but I could no more keep Brightfeather from Davy than I could Madge or Fang. Francesca took a picture of it all, and when she gets the film developed, I'll send you a copy.

I was very pleased to hear that you got approval to register as a mature student with Beaubaxton. It's about time! You'll be able to get formal recognition of all those skills you have, and the wand will help matters, even if it is French (a bit prejudiced of me, I know, but I'd never trade my wand from Ollivanders for love or money). At least you won't have to hide your magic use any more. Let me know when the graduation day is – Davy and I will be there cheering as you get your diploma!

I wanted to thank you again for the cradle you made us. It arrived safely from Rome just after we did, and its so beautiful Hagrid! The fact that you went to the effort to make it for us is so special too. I gave Francesca the cradle I bought in Rome, and she's ordered three more to match it. I know Davy loves it, especially the snake that you carved at the foot of it. He hisses at it quite happily, though he's obviously not old enough to make actual words, and I think Elaine was surprised when she realised I was speaking Parseltongue to him as well as English. He seems to understand me, so I guess that's a birth power that he's inherited from his dad.

The fruit smear is from Madge, who also enjoys sleeping in the cradle with Davy (photo enclosed as per your instructions) though Winky and Dobby are fairly horrified and mutter about fleas and so on. I explained that Madge doesn't go anywhere she could catch fleas, but to make them feel better I've installed a new set of wards on the tent that will remove fleas from anything and everything that crosses the thresholds. She's so picky about staying clean though, so I don't think it will ever be an issue really.

We think we've got the location of the second tomb worked out, and I'm going to be handing this site over to the Magical Trust of Peru later this week. We've learned all we can here, and I think they're the best choice to finish documenting the site. We did find the entrance to the secret passage, which was hidden Muggle style. The corridor held a lot of arcane information on the walls and almost no objects of significance, but we haven't had time to translate it all. Francesca has copies though, and as she gets closer to her due date – and she's huge Hagrid, I'm so glad I only have to cope with one baby at a time! – she'll have something to keep her mind occupied.

Once the site is in the hands of the people from the Trust, we're heading further east. The new tent is even easier to erect than my first one, which is odd seeing as its much bigger inside than the other. Harding says that with a larger Wizard space the spells are much better quality to keep it all aligned correctly when the tent is folded up. I think he was really saying that the first tent I bought was cheap rubbish, but I'll overlook it this once. It seems odd to have such a large space when its only me, the elves and a tiny baby. I can see where we'll be needing the space though, especially when Davy and his siblings hit the teenage years.

Thanks for the pictures of Fang and Madge – they're hilarious! I was trying to figure out when those two were together unsupervised, but then I realised that they were your distraction while I was otherwise occupied. I'm not sure I like the picture of me and the Belly, but as long as you aren't posting copies of it all over Beaubaxton that's ok then.

In other news, Trinket has decided to agree to the wedding his father and Clan Elder have arranged, so I have sent him with a letter of approval back to his Clan in France. He's marrying someone called Argent – her name means silver in our language as well as theirs, which is fitting, as her Clan are silversmiths – and is bringing her back with him. He decided he wanted her with him, and I included instructions in the letter to ensure that the Clans wouldn't interfere. From what little he's told me she's not too keen to be married to someone who's living under the conditions of a life bond, but I'm hoping once she's out here she'll realise that the practice is very different from the theory. Apparently, she's a metallurgist, which is at least a complementary skill to our trade when it comes to identifying objects. Trinket doesn't want any of us at the wedding, but we'll have a feast for him and his bride when they rejoin us.

Well, that was a long letter about not much! I mean it about graduation. I really want to be there for it, and Davy is as eager as I am to see Uncle Hagrid get the honours he deserves! He's added his fingerprints in agreement as you can see. I need to go wash him, the table, my trousers and possibly the rug, so I'll sign off now, with all my love…

Harry and Davy (who are hiding from two slightly cross house elves) and Madge

0o0o0o0

Trinket arrived by flying carpet. He had come to appreciate the finer points of flying on a rug, and for his wedding, Harry had commissioned a carpet especially for the Goblin. It was a four seater, which meant that it could take both Goblins and their luggage comfortably. Argent didn't look too pleased at the mode of travel, but Trinket was beaming happily, a very rare expression for the normally taciturn Goblin. He fairly leapt to the ground in front of Harry and the green eyed man shook the Goblin's hand enthusiastically, then the rest of the team were there adding their congratulations and welcome backs.

Argent climbed down from the floating carpet a little stiffly, but once on the ground she seemed to loose a lot of the rigidity in her… posture.

"A Hippogriff pursued us," she announced in a thin voice in response to Harry's polite enquiry about her journey, "What are you going to do about it? Trinket seemed to think that you had some … relationship with the beast."

"Brightfeather was chasing after you?" Harry frowned, glancing down at Trinket, "Any idea why?"

"It seemed to want us to avoid crossing over a small lake," Trinket frowned, "Naturally I was in no danger from it, and it was no great effort to change course, and we're on time."

"Of course," Harry nodded, "Well if its something I need to know about, Brightfeather will come see me."

"We should set up," Trinket nodded to the still floating carpet, "Thank you for the gift Potter."

"Any time," Harry beamed, "We reserved a spot for you near the trailhead again. If you would be so good as to monitor it as before?"

Having someone monitor the spell that recorded the journey's to and from the tomb allowed them to be sure that no one was lost at the end of the day, and if there was some kind of disaster then they'd at least know who was at the site and who was not. Trinket had monitored the spell before, as it was Goblin in design and he had the best grasp of its subtleties.

"Naturally," Trinket nodded and directed the carpet to fly behind him. Harry watched as Argent started hauling trunks and then shook his head. She hadn't made the friendliest of starts, but with luck, they'd win her over. It couldn't be easy marrying a Goblin that you'd never met, and was living as little more than an indentured slave of a Human at that.

"That's going to be interesting," Francesca mirrored his thoughts, and he grinned at the heavily pregnant linguist. She was as graceful as ever, which Harry envied, and the extra weight suited her.

"Yeah well, we'll win her over in time," he shrugged, "Trinket has a right to having his spouse here too."

"Oh I know, caro, I just hope she loses the stick up her… oomph."

Armando rolled his eyes and took his hand away from his wife's mouth. The closer to her due date she got the more profane Francesca got. It was an interesting phenomenon. Harry decided to be a supportive male though, and change the subject.

"We'll be ready to start the locating spells tomorrow," he mentioned as they strolled towards the Vecchio tent, "And then I'll have some new stuff for you to look over Frannie."

"Good, because I'm getting bored sitting around doing nothing. Armando won't even let me spell the kitchen clean," she shot her husband a dark look, "As if using my wand is too much work."

"I seem to remember a certain Italian linguist standing not a million miles from me hiding my wand once or twice when she decided I needed to rest," Harry mused and yelped when she whacked his arm, "Bloody hell, woman! Don't beat the boss!"

Francesca's response had Armando clapping a hand over her mouth again, a pained expression on his face.

"Master Harry, Master Davy is waking up," Winky popped out of thin air, and Harry nodded at her. The elves were very good with Davy, though he was starting to feel that his son needed more supervision from a Human. If Davy wouldn't stop crying for them, Dobby and Winky punished themselves, which Harry was dead set against. Once the baby got old enough to start throwing tantrums, and Harry was sure that Davy would do so no matter how sweet he was at the moment, the elves would be entirely unable to cope with him.

"I'm coming right now," he promised, and bade goodbye to the Vecchio's. He hurried across to his tent, enjoying the ability to move unencumbered by a big belly. That would be changing again as soon as they located and charted the Second Tomb. They'd check that the Soul Gem was able to withstand the ritual and then not long afterwards Harry would be pregnant again.

Part of him was almost looking forward to it.

0o0o0o0

"Are we sure that's a diamond?" Ferdi asked idly, carefully making a sketch of the door and its markings while Elaine recorded the arithmancy of the wards. Harry was busy keeping them in the visible range, and Trinket was carefully casting measurement spells.

"Yep," Harry had to keep the answer short because the wards were being particularly recalcitrant, requiring most of his not inconsiderable skill to keep them steady. Trinket took over the answer though, which helped vastly.

"There is no other naturally occurring gem that is hard enough to contain a soul," the Goblin shifted to the side and cast another spell, recording his results meticulously. Harry would get a copy of that diagram to add to his own journal for the tomb. Trinket was so reliable that Harry didn't feel the need to redo the work for himself.

"I thought that the Star of Africa was the largest diamond in the world," Ferdi protested, "You know, the one in the Crown of the Muggle royalty in the UK."

"Largest known to Muggles," Trinket sniffed in a disparaging fashion, "Not large enough to hold a human soul though."

"Ok Harry, all done, you can let them go now," Elaine announced and Harry sighed in relief before carefully releasing the wards, letting them become quiescent once more. Of the whole team, he was the one who could hold that spell the longest, not surprising considering his personal magical strength; of course, that didn't make it any less tiring for him.

"Actually Ferdi," Harry sat on a handy stump with a sigh, "I think that the Soul Gems were actually all part of one single diamond, cut into pieces to be used in the defences of these tombs."

"Oh wow," Ferdi breathed, "That would have been… wait a minute. Why did they cut up a diamond that was so big?"

"Probably because it was too big. I know that most people think the bigger the better, but in the case of the diamond, something that large would actually be useless to them. Too large and unwieldy to properly work with for starters, and too heavy to transport from ritual to ritual easily," Harry shrugged, his green eyes fixed on the soul of his next child, "Anacosta would have split it with a spell that traced its natural faults. Chances are that there are five tombs only because there were five fragments of sufficient and equal size. If there had been more of the right type of fragments, then there would be more tombs protected with Soul Gems."

Ferdi swore in Spanish, and then capped the fountain pen he used to write with, charmed to be never out, and inlaid with gold filigree that was actually quite captivating. The thought that each Gem was a visual testament to the ritual murder of a child was a sobering thought and tarnished the gems beauty.

"Done," Trinket announced, "I'll have a copy for you by sundown, Potter. Shall I take the copies of the door to Vecchio now?"

"Yes, please," Harry nodded, and Trinket nodded and stomped off. They'd learned to read the Goblin's actions and speech over the last almost year, and Harry could tell he was eager to get back to his wife.

"Harry, Harding and I have come to a decision on the matter of the tutor and nanny that you suggested at yesterday's meeting. If you're sure that you don't mind paying in a share with us then we'd like to go ahead with it," Elaine hauled Harry up off the stump. If left to himself, Harry would spend hours sitting with the Soul Gem.

"Of course I want to pay a share," Harry smiled, "Davy and his siblings will all be under the nanny's care, and eventually under the tutor as well. Just because your eldest is going to need the tutor first doesn't mean we should pay differing amounts. Frannie and Armando are happy to go in equally as well, so that's ok. Ferdi can put the advertisements in now, and when we go back to Rome next week we can hold the interviews then."

"Actually," Ferdi spoke up hesitantly, "I need to talk to you as well Harry."

Elaine took the hint, and left them to walk back to the camp slowly. After his work on the wards, Harry didn't have the energy for a brisker pace, and he was reluctant to leave the Soul Gem alone, though it had managed without his presence for thousands of years and likely wasn't even aware of him at all.

"What's wrong Ferdi? Is this about Juanita?" Harry linked his arm comfortably through his assistants, grateful for the support.

"Yes," Ferdi sighed, "And it's spooky that you know… I mean I didn't think that anyone knew about her writing me."

"Ferdi you spend hours talking about her, when we're not talking about work," Harry smiled, "I know how special she is to you."

"She's the one, Harry," Ferdi sighed, "And she has agreed to marry me on one condition."

"She wants you to give up the field work," Harry guessed and Ferdi sighed, his lips pressed tightly together, "Ferdi… you have to follow your own path. I'll miss you, and finding someone to replace you will be hard, but I'd hate to stand in the way of your happiness."

"Oh Harry," Ferdi sighed as they emerged from the trail and into the clearing dotted with the teams tents, "You know, not many people are willing to put up with someone like me. My flair and style is intimidating to many. You have accepted me as I am, and for that… I will always be at your disposal. I'll make an Unbreakable Vow to keep silent about the First and Second Tomb until you release me, and I will be available to research for you. Just send me a letter and…"

"Thanks Ferdi," Harry smiled, interrupting before his assistant could get too carried away, "I guess you'd better put an advertisement out for an assistant as well. Married couples with complimentary skills a plus. If you've got any contacts, anyone in mind that might fit the bill, give them a nudge to apply."

"I'll get right on it," Ferdi nodded, "Will you be ok from here?"

"Sure," Harry smiled and disengaged his arm from his assistant, putting a hand onto the flap of his tent, "I'll see you tomorrow, then. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Harry," Ferdi smiled sadly and headed for his own tent. Harry sighed and ducked inside, wondering what he'd do if he couldn't get an assistant before they came back to the site. Not everyone was willing to drag their significant other into the wilderness, looking for treasure.

He put his thoughts aside to deal with his concerned elves and cooing son.

0o0o0o0

Ray and Ben Fraser joined the team two days after they returned to Rome with Francesca. She had been whisked off to spend time with her mother prior to her delivery, and Ferdi had made it a point to get his replacement organised first. With the rest of the team working on the ritual, which had to be tailored to the geographical location of the tomb as well as to the wards on the tomb, some of which were vastly different to those on the first tomb, Ferdi wanted his replacement to have plenty of time to get up to speed with the site.

Ray was a historian by training, and actually held a degree in Muggle archaeology. He was Muggle born, and his parents had apparently made it a condition of his attendance at the Italian Academy of Magical Excellence – Italy's version of Hogwarts. His partner Ben was a Herbologist, who was interested in cultivating several rare Peruvian plants. Ben had also offered to grow vegetables and produce for the team, and Harry had signed approval for purchase of a tent that was mostly a series of greenhouses. He'd also warned Ben to ward against Madge, as the young monkey was very curious and likely to eat his plants.

Neither man seemed phased by the idea of Harry having children, or of the team being made up of mostly married couples with children. In fact, Ben had commented that it made sense to take family members into the field, as it took the guilt out of pursuing excellence in a person's chosen field.

"That's one way to put it," Harry had laughed. Ben had a house elf that would also accompany them, one that he'd inherited with his trust fund. He was a bit of a playboy in that he didn't actually need to work and chose to pursue herbology as more of a hobby. He wasn't too bad for a 'trust fund baby', though Harry was aware that term could also apply to Davy, whose trust fund had been established before he was born, and so would his siblings.

They had settled back into the house that they'd rented when waiting for Harry and Elaine to deliver their children, and Ray and Ben seemed quite happy in the spare room. The house didn't actually have enough rooms for everyone and the children, but it did have a very large attic and cellar, so they'd each pitched their tents and were sharing communal meals in the dining room. This had the added advantage of allowing the children to have access to their toys and own beds, something that Harry had come to recognise as very important when it came to keeping little people happy. If Davy couldn't have his cradle, then he wanted his daddy, and Harry had become very accustomed to reading his research aloud to a snoozing baby.

"Hey Boss, the Kowalski's are here," Ray announced, "And what are you reading to him?"

"The fourth principal of Wagner as applied to inorganic curses," Harry glanced up, marking his place, "And who are the Kowalski's?"

"Married couple looking to be your nanny and tutor," Ray rubbed a hand through his short hair and shook his head, "This kid is going to be after your job if you're not careful, and he doesn't even have teeth yet. Think he'll let me hold him while you wear the bosses' hat?"

"Probably, if you keep talking to him," Harry sighed, "He doesn't like port keys very much, and he's always a little unsettled for a few days afterwards."

"Heh, maybe you should give him to Barbara and see if she can handle him. She's the nanny portion of the couple," Ray put his hands out and settled Davy on his shoulder with a practiced pat. He apparently had quite a few nieces and nephews, and had a lot of experience playing with them.

"Let me meet them first," Harry smiled, "Barbara Kowalski and…?"

"Damien," Ray supplied, "Polish couple in their late seventies, which means they've got at least forty years before they consider retirement. Specialities include transfiguration and charms, which can't hurt in the field."

"Right, Barbara and Damien," Harry nodded, "They're in the study?"

"Yep," Ray nodded and turned the book that Harry had been reading aloud. He took up where Harry had left off, his slightly nasal voice oddly soothing. Harry grinned as he shut the door, shaking his head. Ferdi had been a little formal and detail oriented, despite his flamboyant style. Ray was much more … organic in his approach, something that had appealed greatly to Harry. Both Ray and Ben had made instant friends with the team, not at all phased by Trinket and Argent, and accepting the idea of a boss that was planning to get pregnant four more times without missing a beat. For all his excellent points, Ferdi had been a little… reserved about Davy and his future siblings. The Spaniard hadn't wanted them to commit infanticide, but Harry had always had the feeling that Ferdi would have been happier if Elaine and Francesca had borne the children from the Gems.

Harry paused outside the door to the study and took a deep breath, focussing his attention on the interview he was about to conduct. The team had agreed to let him hold the initial meetings, and they would meet Harry's choice before a firm offer was made to ensure that everyone was happy.

Their team was certainly growing in leaps and bounds. If this kept up, they'd fetch up qualifying as a village or something in their own right.

0o0o0o0

"Wow."

Harry turned at the comment and smiled at his assistant. The tomb _was_ impressive, festooned with vines and constructed with the light grey stone that was native to the area. They were floating above it on the carpet while Harry and Trinket mapped it out to ensure that they didn't miss any chambers hidden by means other than magic. Ray hadn't had a chance to see much of the tomb, as they were still finalising the translations on the door and Harding had insisted on double-checking the arithmancy of the wards. Some sites had wards that changed according to moon phase, or experienced seasonal fluctuations, and the ritual that would free the soul trapped in the Gem needed to be perfectly matched.

"Yeah, it's pretty impressive," Harry agreed and directed the carpet slightly to the left to give Trinket a better angle for his diagram. The Goblin grunted his thanks, and Ray rolled his eyes. The blonde man was fairly easy going, and it took a lot to rattle him. The arrival of the quads, for example, hadn't bothered him at all, though he was stuck in a Muggle elevator with Frannie at the time. That had been a saga and a half, and in the end, only Harry's magic had gotten them out and clear of Muggle rescue workers before the actual birth.

On the plus side, Hagrid now had a nice little colony of Nestene – small lizard-like creatures that liked eating metal and breathed sparks – that had been chewing on the lift cables. They were similar to Dragons in some ways, which his brother was still fanatical about. It was the Nestene that had been responsible for the failure of the lift, something that the Muggles had been naturally unable to detect.

"I am so glad Ben talked me into applying for this job," Ray grinned, "I mean, there aren't many jobs that take married couples, and everyone knows about the Five Tombs. You must have been inundated with applicants."

"Ferdi didn't say," Harry smirked, "Which was a relief, because hiring everyone the first time was … well, not to worry."

"And is that a lake over there?" Ray grinned. He knew how little Harry liked interviewing people, especially after Ferdi had finished briefing him. Harry had overheard some of it: Ferdi had made it more than clear that the proper care and handling of Harry Potter was Ray's primary goal in life.

Harry hated interviewing people because he hated putting himself in the public eye. His exile had not changed that, and he was in the unusual position of needing to publish his work to gain and maintain his professional standing, thus attracting unwanted attention. Additionally, male pregnancy wasn't so common that people brushed it off without a second thought, which meant even more attention.

Oddly enough, Harry's pregnancies were one of the reasons that Ray and Ben had been keen for the job. Ben was apparently eager for the couple to have children together, but Ray refused to allow it until they'd researched the matter thoroughly. Watching Harry live through it evidently met the research requirements.

"Yes," Trinket looked up, "But it is forbidden to us. There is a Hippogriff that hunts anyone flying too near it off."

"Why?" Ray frowned, then shook his head, "Hang on, a Hippogriff? Are they even native to this area?"

"No," Trinket snorted, "This one migrates to our location on a regular basis. Potter has made friends with it, in his own fashion."

Before Ray could ask any more questions a familiar cry sounded, and Brightfeather's shadow cut sharply over the flying carpet. Ray tilted his head back for a glimpse as Harry grinned.

"Speak of the devil," he chuckled and Brightfeather called again, a soft commanding sound that Harry knew better than to ignore, "Trinket, take the carpet and Ray back to camp, ok? I'll be back when whatever Brightfeather wants to show me is finished with."

"How will you follow the Hippogriff if you let us have the carpet?" Ray asked, confusion showing on his face. Harry smiled again and then stepped off the edge as Brightfeather flew underneath, landing securely on the Hippogriff's back as his assistant cried out in shock.

The wind whipped away any further noise, and Harry leaned forward, patting the strong neck in front of him in greeting and arranging his legs so he wouldn't interfere with Brightfeather's wings. They were heading for the lake, and at the core of his magic, Harry could feel the little tug that said Dobby was worried about him and tying to locate him. He closed his eyes for a moment and sent reassurance back through the bond, hoping that the little elf wouldn't come unless called. Brightfeather didn't seem to like the elves much; something about their magic made him twitchy.

A sudden change in altitude recalled Harry's wandering thoughts, and moments later, they were banking over the lake, and then landing on the shore, Harry slipping to the ground as quickly as he could to take the strain from Brightfeather's lame foreleg. There were several foals on the edges of the lake, and one or two dames that were hugely pregnant. This was obviously the reason that Brightfeather was hunting everyone off – friend or foe, the foals and dams would be vulnerable to air attack.

There was a dam lying on the side of the lake, with Greywings nervously dancing around her. The roan dam was struggling, and when Brightfeather nudged Harry closer, he could see that she had been bitten. Whatever it was seemed to be poisonous if the marks around the bite were any indication, and Harry summoned Dobby without a second thought.

"Dobby, I need my bag," he said urgently, "And then I want you to stay with Davy."

Dobby looked very upset by the order, but knew better than to say anything in the presence of the Hippogriffs. The moment he or Winky spoke, the flying half-breeds would attack them, snapping and snarling. Seconds later, he was back with Harry's bag and then he disappeared again, giving Harry a very soulful look.

It looked like a snake bite, so Harry began treatment for that, hampered by the fact that the dam was in labour and not at all in the mood to have a Human near her. He managed to keep her stable long enough for the foal to be delivered, dodging her beak and hooves at every turn. She seemed to lose all of her fight once her foal arrived, but Harry had a few tricks up his sleeve, and after a very stressful half hour, he finally stepped back, confident in the knowledge that she would live without any further intervention on his part. Greywings had stopped fluttering about the roan and was now watching avidly as the new foal took its first clumsy steps. Harry smiled at its attempts, packing his bag carefully and stepping away from the new mother, lest someone in the flight get the wrong idea and tries to kill him.

There was a rustle in the bushes to his left and Harry turned his head curiously. Seconds later, he was snapping a stream of spells, cutting his opponent in half and staggering in place. Battle hardened instincts could come in useful, though he'd let them slip a bit too much if it allowed his attacker to get this close. With a wince, Harry prised the feathered serpent off his wrist, preventing the dead snake from pumping any more venom into his body. He fumbled into his bag again, even as the Hippogriffs around him stamped and snorted and generally created a fuss. He swallowed a bezoar hurriedly and then apparated back to camp, arriving in front of Armando's tent.

"Harry!" someone yelled and he dropped the dead snake onto the ground, staggering two paces to the left and throwing up violently. Hands grabbed hold of him and then the world faded away.

0o0o0o0

Davy blinked up at his Daddy, and Harry smiled gently, content to lie propped on his side with his son's hand flexing and grabbing against his pyjama top. He hadn't seen his son for nearly a week, though he'd only been awake for a day or so. Armando had worked long and hard on his anti venom, with Harry in a magically maintained coma at the time. The bezoar had helped him for a while, but throwing up had purged his system, which meant that the small amount of venom that had yet to be neutralised had done its level best to kill him.

Davy was chatting away, soft baby sounds and burbles that Harry swore were almost words, even though his son was still too young to be speaking at all. He angled the hand that was resting against his son's side and Davy grabbed his thumb, the tiny grip surprisingly strong. Trinket shifted impatiently in the chair beside Harry's bed, and he glanced at the irate Goblin for a second before returning his attention to his son. Harry had been treated to quite the rant from his indentured slave; all about how Trinket couldn't possibly do his duty properly to Harry if Harry insisted on going off with 'that mangy flea ridden half horse on hare brained excursions'. The Goblin had then lapsed into Gobbledegook and Harry had learned several new swear words and elaborate curses. Trinket had apparently been guarding Davy while Harry was laid up, something that touched him deeply.

The wrist that had been bitten was still quite sore, though Armando said that was as much from the nerve and tissue damage as the venom. Harry was apparently going to have another interesting looking scar to add to his collection. Feathered serpent venom was slightly corrosive, and the teeth of the serpent that had bitten Harry had grazed his bone. Of course, the Basilisk venom and Phoenix tears that were still contained in Harry's blood had complicated matters. Harry hadn't realised that Fawkes had chosen to cry tears that neutralised and balanced the venom of Salazar's Basilisk without completely eradicating it. According to Armando, the mixture would make him immune to a normal snakebite; it was just Harry's typical luck that feathered serpents were well outside the normal range.

"Hey, boss, you're awake," Ray's voice intruded on his thoughts and Harry nodded, though he continued to play gently with Davy, "Good to see you looking better and less like Sleeping Beauty."

"Tell me he didn't kiss me to wake me up," Harry groaned, and Ray laughed.

"Ben would murder me and use me for compost;" Ray replied lightly, "Your virtue is safe with me."

"Potter, I will leave you for a moment. Fraser, stay with him," Trinket announced and hopped down from his chair. Ray came into Harry's line of sight and leaned on the next bed. They were in the hospital tent, which meant that there were several beds in a row, each one with a 'skylight' above it that allowed a limited view of the area outside the tent.

"While you were in the coma, there were some… complications in the team," Ray said once Trinket was gone, "You should know that Trinket is talking of repudiating Argent, Boss."

"What?" Harry glanced up for a second and then looked back down at Davy, who was attempting to kick Harry's free hand, babbling away to his Daddy happily. A smile kept creeping over Harry's face, completely inappropriate to the serious conversation that Ray was trying to have with him.

"She aired the opinion that if you died then Trinket would be freed of his life debt," Ray shrugged, "Which, before you get worked up, is true, and we all know that. Trinket didn't take kindly to her saying it though, and there were words exchanged. He moved in to your tent to help your elves take care of Davy, and I don't think they've spoken since then."

"Hmm," Harry mumbled, patting the soles of his sons flailing feet with his palm and then resting his head on the pillows. As much as he loved Davy, he didn't think he could stay awake much longer, "Thanks for telling me. I can't get involved though, it's his marriage after all, and I really don't have the right to tell him what to do with his wife."

"Yeah, I know. I just thought you should," Ray shrugged, "You're looking tired."

"I am," Harry agreed, fatigue catching up to him in a sudden wave. Davy also seemed to be tired, because he yawned and rolled closer to Harry, which was his son's latest achievement.

"Get some rest then, Boss. I'll keep an eye on the both of you. At least until Trinket is back," Ray said it quietly, and Harry let himself relax a little. Dobby and Winky were no doubt monitoring him as well through the bond, and they'd come for Davy when they realised he was going to sleep. His elves had also lectured him – in their own way – and Harry was grateful they cared enough to do so. As long as they felt that they could voice their opinions, it meant that he was providing the right amount of care for them.

His son had quite a strong grip on his pyjama top, even in his sleep, and Harry let Davy's sleepy breaths lull him into sleep as well.

0o0o0o0

Dear Hagrid,

We've had a bit of a delay, but the team has run the ritual through, and once again, I'm pregnant. We ran the ritual for a male from the very start and my scar hardly twinged at all when it took, which seems to confirm my theories about the blasted thing. Not to worry, though, I was able to Occlude really well at the end of the war, so there is no danger of another Witch or Wizard taking me over. Because of the delay this means that Davy will be almost a year old when his sibling is born, which is funny, to think that I've been a dad for so long.

Speaking of Davy, he's found out how to roll over, which he does most often when I'm trying to change his nappy, and he's started shunting himself along on his front, shoving off with his feet. Mrs Kowalski says it won't be long until he starts crawling at this rate! I've enclosed photos for you – as you can see he's growing in leaps and bounds. There are also a few of Madge – the object that Davy is pursuing most often when he does his caterpillar impersonation. We've moved him into his own room and a cot (fifth photo) and they both sleep there quite happily.

Now that we can get into the second tomb, work has begun in earnest. The writings and decorations are as lavish as the first tomb, but the really exciting find is some actual scrolls! Harding and I are labouring over some tailored preservation spells, and once they take, we will be able to unroll them and see what they've got written on them! Ray is drooling in anticipation, and so is Davy, though that might be because he's about to cut a tooth.

There are also several artefacts of interest to us, mainly a series of boxes in precious metals that have some very hefty curses on them. Once the scrolls are sorted, I'll be turning my attention to them, though Trinket is currently working on the preliminary detection spells. Argent would be able to tell us precisely what type of metals we're working with but she and Trinket are currently Not Speaking, and I don't like to undermine him by speaking 'over his head' to her. She made a few comments recently that have incensed several people, her husband included, and things have yet to be resolved.

Brightfeather has finally revealed the reason for hunting people and predators away from the lake. It seems that he was using it as a maternity ward for the flight, and several new foals have been dropped. The flight is growing in size, which is good news for Brightfeather. I have a feeling that they'll have a hard time leaving South America though, as the movement of magical creatures is fairly restricted here, even wild ones. When the flight was smaller, they'd have been able to slip under the radar as it were, but now they're big enough to attract attention. There was some indication that the authorities were scouting the area for the flight, but Brightfeather had them well concealed. I'm still not sure why he seems so intent on keeping touch with me, but I am happy to know that he's around. We get a lot of protection from having the flight in the area, as they are fierce hunters and any other predators in the area are usually moved on.

Well, it's a short letter, but I wanted to let you know that the ritual had gone according to plan, and to send on those photos for you. When the team found out I was writing they all warned Ray not to hex you if you should turn up, which was kind of funny. Davy sends you all his love, and Madge has licked the corner of the parchment. Hoping that you are well,

Harry

0o0o0o0

_**Extract from 'Harry Potter: The Man behind the Legend. An Unofficial Biography'**_

… _The scrolls found in the Second Tomb of Anacosta eventually led Harry Potter and his team to another nearby site, with promises of incredible wealth and fortune. In fact, the site was designed to be a killing floor from start to finish, and it was only Harry Potter's quick thinking, intelligence and magical ability that prevented the death of his entire team._

_To this day, the 'Tomb of Death' as it was referred to in the Potter Journals, is maintained intact, with all of the original curses in place. Curse breakers and tourists alike have been known to visit the site to study the spells woven into the trap, as they contain several entirely unknown curses._

_From his own study of the 'Tomb of Death', Harry Potter was able to publish a book on the subject. This was to be the first of what eventually became more than twenty tomes published by Harry Potter, establishing him as an authority in his field. Several of the better schools of magic in Europe use his works as instructional texts, and he continues to hold the title of the most quoted or referred to curse breaker in his field…_

0o0o0o0


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer – JKR and several other companies etc owns the characters that you recognise

0o0o0o0

Harry wiped his mouth with the cloth that Armando was offering him and leaned back against the bathtub. The team Healer used a gentle spell to clean his mouth and Harry nodded in thanks, trying to catch his breath and quell his rebellious stomach. Armando settled back opposite him, training his wand on Harry and muttering a few spells to gauge the green eyed mans condition. Harry didn't react well to anti nausea spells or medicines, so they had to do this the Muggle way – with ginger ale and salty crackers.

"Maybe we should have waited longer to get you pregnant," Armando said, worry creasing his face, "You'd only been out and about for a month after that snake bite."

"Serpent," Harry corrected, "It was a feathered serpent, not a snake. That's why I took the bezoar."

"Whatever," Armando waved a hand. They'd had this discussion before, so Harry didn't pursue it; the Healer was trying to distract him from his iffy stomach, and it was almost working, "And then only last week you put a lot of magical energy into saving my wife and the rest of the team, which I am forever grateful to you for. That can't have helped; your body is under enormous strain during pregnancy. Perhaps we should wait until the last minute to perform the ritual next time."

"I don't want the babies sharing birthdays," Harry shook his head, "There will only be a couple of weeks between Davy and this one as it is."

He couldn't explain why he didn't want to have all the babies born at the same time; it was just a gut instinct. His team didn't mind much when they did the ritual, with the rider that it be done in the right moon and season phases. His stomach rolled and Harry lurched up, hanging onto the sides of the loo grimly as he rid himself of what felt like a years worth of meals. Armando supported him through the dry heaves and retching and helped him rinse his mouth and spit, the mess in the bowl disappearing quickly.

"Easy there," Armando soothed, and Harry slumped against the healer miserably, "I guess Davy spoiled you, you only had two days of sickness with him."

"Remind me to thank him," Harry groaned, "This is awful."

"Elaine thinks the sickness means you're having a girl," Armando offered and settled Harry comfortably against him, rubbing his patients back gently, as he'd been instructed by Hagrid. The half giant couldn't leave with his exams approaching but he'd sent a very detailed letter to Armando explaining how to help Harry settle after a bout of sickness.

"How does she reason that out?" Harry asked listlessly. His team had speculated all through his first pregnancy about Davy, and it looked like they were going to continue the tradition for this baby as well. His stomach cramped for a moment and then settled, and he sighed in relief.

"She was really sick with her boy, but her daughters gave her no trouble," Armando correctly interpreted the sigh and helped Harry up, leading him from the bathroom to his bedroom and settling him on the bed to rest.

"That doesn't follow, unless she thinks that the opposite will be true for me…" Harry shook his head and settled back against the pillows with a sigh, "Thanks Armando."

"No problem," Armando grinned, "You're a lot less trouble than Frannie was. Between the bad language and the hexes I'm lucky to have survived her morning sickness."

Harry smiled a little at that and picked up the latest notes left for him by Ray. His assistant didn't do well with the whole throwing up thing; in fact, he'd thrown up as well the last time he'd been present for Harry's morning sickness. He'd been absolutely mortified by it, but Harry could understand; he didn't like watching other people throw up either.

"Looks like they've managed to penetrate the inner chamber," Harry mumbled, feeling a bit left out. He wanted to be in the tomb working with the others, not stuck here throwing up.

"If you can keep your lunch down I'll walk you to the tomb," Armando sighed, correctly interpreting Harry's expression again. The Healer was getting all too good at picking up on Harry's subtle body language, and the team leader was finding it more and more difficult to conceal his state of health from the man. Harry had a number of small aches and pains from old injuries, not to mention being a private person who was used to dealing with things on his own. It was a little daunting to have someone turn up with a remedy and a frown and scold him into bed, though Dobby and Winky both approved. Harry wasn't too sure how he felt about it yet.

"Thanks," Harry gave the Healer a smile, and focussed on the report in front of him. Armando settled into the armchair that Harry had installed for the Healer and busied himself with a professional journal of his own.

The tent was oddly quiet with Davy at the Kowalski's. His son cried when Harry was ill, and Harry couldn't take the stress of wanting to soothe the baby while trying not to throw up. The morning sickness was usually over by twelve or so, as if Harry's body knew that they'd entered the afternoon and the time to throw up was over. Whatever the reason, Harry was glad that he didn't have to spend entire days being sick on his bathroom floor.

0o0o0o0

"Argent! No!" Harry barked, and the Goblin pulled her hands back quickly, before turning to scowl at him. In the muted wand light, the scowl looked particularly effective, and a lesser man might have stepped back. Harry was not a lesser man, and he was intent on protecting her besides, even against her own wishes.

"What, Potter?!" she snarled, "I have removed the hurling hex that was on this box."

"But not the hand eating curse," Harry snapped back, "And what were you thinking, touching something that Trinket and I hadn't cleared? You are not rated for curse breaking, and I'll thank you not to meddle in things that are outside your very limited area of expertise! Trinket!!"

"Yes Potter?" the surly Goblin in front of him scowled even deeper as her husband appeared from behind Harry. In a few terse words, Harry explained what had happened and instructed his fellow curse breaker to keep his wife clear of the site. Trinket shot an enraged look at Argent, which actually made her flush, and then nodded to Harry.

"Once again you have rendered me a service, Potter," Trinket sighed, "Am I never to be rid of you?"

"Sorry, Trinket," Harry smiled at the small joke, glad that the two of them had reached a point in their friendship that such jokes could be made. Harry hadn't demanded that Trinket repudiate his wife, as Goblin honour required him to offer. He'd noticed that Trinket had been enjoying his marriage, at least he had until the Great Schism had occurred, and hadn't wanted to part the other from someone that he'd become close to. Argent's less than sensitive comments during the whole feathered serpent mess had caused friction for a while, though Harry could sympathise with her desire to be married to a free man. Goblins lived much longer than Wizards, so barring accidents Trinket would one day be free of his debt to Harry. Harry wouldn't be there to see it though. As much as he wanted to set Trinket free of his debt, to do so while still alive would be a crushing blow to the Goblin's standing in society, one that he would never be able to recover from.

Harry watched Trinket lead his wife from the tomb, and sighed, rubbing the small belly that he now sported. Three months into the pregnancy the morning sickness had stopped, much to everyone's relief as Harry had actually started to lose weight. He'd been slightly underweight coming out of his pregnancy with Davy and the whole team had taken to foisting snacks and small meals upon him whenever they came across him in an effort to get him back up to a healthy weight. Dobby and Winky approved, and colluded to have his favourite foods on hand for the team to tempt him with. Luckily, he wasn't experiencing cravings, something that Elaine and Francesca had both gone through.

He picked his way over to the beautiful silver box and flicked his wand in a series of precise arcs, removing the hand-eating curse and detecting several more in the process, including an infertility curse and a blindness hex. It took him nearly three hours to remove them all, three hours of steady casting, detection and countering. This was the part of the job he enjoyed the most, the challenge of defeating the defences that another Wizard had set up, though the person who'd cursed this box didn't use very intricate spells. Once he was sure that the box was completely safe, he donned a pair of cotton gloves and picked it up.

Now that it was safe, it would need to be catalogued, photographed and indexed. He'd need to add a list of the curses upon it as well, and Ray would doubtless want him to sit down for a while. His team took good care of him, something that Harry appreciated. It wasn't in their job descriptions to act as his surrogate family, but he'd found that the longer they stayed together, the closer they'd become. Even Trinket had become a close part of the team, something that was unusual for Goblin's working with Humans. Harry had seen other teams that had completely separate camps and very formal interactions with each other. There was no way he'd have tolerated working in those conditions and counted himself lucky to have found such a wonderful group of people.

"Earth to Harry," Ray joked, "Honestly, you're as bad as Ben is; when he gets to musing the world could end and he wouldn't notice."

"Sorry, Ray," Harry sighed, "Here, we've got another artefact to go over."

"I love my job," Ray crowed, "Interesting location; treasure and history in abundance, and a boss who lets me bring my lover with me to work."

"No regrets then?" Harry accepted the fruit he was handed and sat where he was wordlessly told to, taking a bite of the apple and watching as Ray started the process of measuring and sketching in the ledger that they used as a master record of all the artefacts enclosed in the tomb. Francesca had one for the tomb writings, and Trinket for the information on the actual occupant. Harding and Elaine jointly maintained the ledger on the wards and Harry had all that and more recorded in his site journal.

The Welsh's and Francesca were currently trying to decipher the next series of clues to the Third Tomb, something that Harry was keenly interested in helping with. Unfortunately, he couldn't do that until he'd thoroughly removed any malicious magic in the structure, something that this tomb had in abundance. The occupant had been particularly malicious by all accounts, a conclusion borne out by the sheer number of hexes and curses layered on anything of value. Once the tomb was declared safe the others could start helping with the cataloguing and recording, and Harry could start looking for the location of his third child.

"Regrets? I get down on my knees daily in thanks!" Ray's rejoinder made Harry laugh, an entirely different image coming to mind. He blamed it on the pregnancy.

"I don't need to know that much about your private life, Ray," he deadpanned, and Ray looked blank for a moment; when he realised how his statement could be taken he cackled and gave Harry his best leer before going back to work.

0o0o0o0

"Over my dead body," Harry said firmly, "I am not wearing that, and neither is Davy."

Elaine laughed and put the robe back on the rack. The neon green lace waved at Harry and he shuddered, adjusting his babbling son on his hip and glaring at his arithmancer. Wearing his Dad's old cloak was looking better and better if that was the sort of thing his staff thought he would look nice in.

"You need to have a good set of robes to wear for Hagrid's graduation and for the conference," Francesca scolded, "We don't mind that you dress in Muggle styles when you're with us in the field, and the robes you wear in Rome are alright for around the house, but you're going to be _seen_, Harry, and we want you to look as wonderful as you actually are."

Before Harry could refute that overly sentimental statement, Elaine was rescued by her esteemed colleague. He'd noticed that as he got closer to his delivery date, his team got a lot more clingy and protective of him, not to mention that emotions tended to flow like wine. At least Harry had the excuse of pregnancy hormones.

"Besides boss, you know that the conference is as much about how successful you look as the material you'll be presenting. Your appearance is a reflection on all of us, so stop whining," Ray added from the next rack over, "How about these? They're similar to the ones you wore for our interview, but a bit richer in colour and cut."

"Oh yes!" Elaine beamed, "And we can get Davy some to match."

The robes were dark blue, non-shiny velvet, with an embroidered border of vines and leaves in silver. The fabric was heavy and swirling in a way that would help hide the baby belly he was sporting. They had come to France for the birth, a month before he was due according to tradition, a visit that coincided with Hagrid's graduation and a Gringott's sponsored Conference of Curse Breakers. Some of the biggest names in the field would be there, and Harry was presenting the data on the First Tomb of Anacosta by request. He was looking forward to catching up with several of the witches and wizards that had been apprenticed at the same time as himself, and with others that he'd met while working in the field with Dupree.

"Alright, let me try them on," Harry sighed, "Someone catch hold of Davy."

"Come to uncle Ray," his assistant beamed and Davy threw himself happily into the other mans arms, pointing to something he'd spotted and telling the blonde all about it, the occasional real word interspersed among the babble. Harry's son was crawling already, and had called Harry 'dad' for the first time only a few days ago.

Harry left them to it and went to try on the robe with Francesca's help. The robes were a good fit, and Harry had to admit that he did look quite good in them, for a five-month pregnant man who spent most of his time in a jungle or a desert. The fitting rooms were fitted with automatic sizing charms, though they struggled a little with his baby belly.

"All you need is to trim your hair a little," Francesca smiled, "You look so handsome, Harry. They'll be falling at your feet."

Harry's smile dimmed a little, thinking of the one he wanted to fall at his feet, the one he was forever parted from. Quick to sense his mood, Frannie stood up from where she'd been checking the length of the hems and pulled him into a hug.

"I'm sorry, caro," she murmured, "I know that this is not as easy as you make it look."

"I make it look easy?" Harry took off his glasses and swiped at his eyes impatiently, and she kissed his cheek gently, rubbing the top of his head affectionately and helping him take the robe off again. He hated being so emotional; the pregnancy made it harder for him to control himself when he was reminded of his exile.

"Anyone who didn't know you would think you'd never had a day of sorrow in your life," she sighed, "I know that we cannot replace the ones you left behind, but you are family now, caro. It was a blessed day that I met you."

"No, you can't replace them, because you are my family on your own merits, not in competition with those I lost," Harry smiled and drew her in for a hug, "You're right: it was a blessed day that we met."

They separated and Harry followed his linguist out into the store. Elaine and Ray were holding robes up for Davy, who was pulling faces and giggling. Harry was glad his son hadn't taken a liking to any of their choices, in fact he was beginning to believe the pair was colour blind. The robes being offered were gaudy, garish and entirely inappropriate for a ten month old.

"Are you trying to torture my son?" he asked and scooped up dark red set of robes that would let Davy crawl or toddle as he desired and could be resized for a while. Davy was in fact attending one of the lectures at the Conference at Armando's request. Several Healers that specialised in curse negation in children would be present and Armando wanted them to see Harry's son to ensure that there would be no future complications for the child. Armando had reassured Harry that Davy was healthy and developing as he should, but the child had been conceived under highly unusual circumstances, so a bit of redundancy wouldn't hurt.

Davy clapped in approval and Harry stuck his tongue out at his laughing team before proceeding to the counter to pay for his purchases.

0o0o0o0

Hagrid beamed down at Harry, who flung an arm around the half giant in congratulations. Davy was _still_ clapping, even though the ceremony had ended five minutes ago. People were swirling around the crowded hall, French accents tripping like bells all over the room, the atmosphere light and airy, and totally unlike Hogwarts.

"Well done, Hagrid," Harry murmured, "I'm so pleased for you!"

Hagrid wrapped them all in his arms, and Harry felt a few tears slide into his hair. He tightened his grip, and when they stepped back, Davy was resting in Hagrid's arms by virtue of his grip on the other mans beard. Hagrid looked very unlike himself in his silver graduation robes; they swirled around the man in a bright display of unaccustomed splendour. The smile on his face was all Hagrid though, and Harry beamed up at him in equal delight.

"Yer've gotten quite th' belly," Hagrid chuckled and Harry laughed, putting his hands on the baby comfortably. His back hated him, and so did his feet, but he wouldn't have missed this for all the world.

"You don't think it suits me?" Harry teased lightly, "I thought I looked dashing."

The truth was that this was the worst part of the pregnancy. Even delivering the baby was better than feeling as if his body had been invaded by an alien with a million elbows and knees to dig into his insides, not to mention a sleeping schedule that meant when he was trying to sleep the baby was wide-awake. He found it hard to sit down, hard to stand up and lying down was not much better either. He also overheated rapidly, though Winky had put a series of charms on everything that he owned to help with that. The robes he'd worn in Egypt were the most comfortable he had, what with them being roomy and fairly shapeless, but they weren't smart enough for a ceremony at Beaubaxton.

"Rubeus!"

The oh so familiar voice had both of them freezing in surprise, and Hagrid looked as if he was going to tuck Harry up in his other arm and run off for a moment. Harry shook his head slightly, and turned with the half giant to face his former Head of House.

"Minerva," Hagrid said gruffly, "I weren't expectin' yer to be here."

"Hagrid, how could I not? When I heard that you were graduating… we were always friends at the school and I wanted to be here for you. Merlin knows I wasn't when I should have been," Minerva McGonagall was almost entirely unchanged. Her hair had gone a lovely steel grey, but she was as straight and slender as ever, her formal tartan robes and twisted hat as familiar to Harry as ever. She looked a little surprised to see Hagrid cradling a dark haired baby, and when her eyes turned to Harry she gasped and a hand flew up to her throat.

"Hello Professor," Harry said it gently, hoping that she wouldn't create a scene. He was prepared to retrieve Davy and make a quiet retreat, allowing his brother to spend some time with his former colleague. He'd known that McGonagall was a friend of Hagrid's at school, she'd spent a lot of mealtimes talking to his brother and there had been no mistaking the brusque pride she'd displayed when Hagrid gained a role as Professor at Hogwarts.

"Oh Harry," McGonagall's eyes filled with tears and she stepped forward, folding him into an unexpected embrace, "Oh my dearest boy, you look so well! I've been so worried, but I didn't dare ask Hagrid how you were, I didn't want him to feel torn between us. And you're… is the little boy yours as well? He's beautiful! Such wonderfully deep blue eyes, and he's got your hair, Harry! Oh, how did this happen?"

"Easy Professor," Harry laughed gently, greatly relieved that she wasn't denouncing him as the next Dark Lord, "I can't possibly answer all that at once."

She sniffed in asperity and let him step back a little, turning to offer a hand to Davy and smiling at him gently, not letting go of Harry for a moment. Davy smiled and took hold of a finger, looking up at Hagrid for reassurance for a moment.

"Dad?" his son charmed the strict Head of Gryffindor house with that one word, and Harry smiled at the little boy. Davy in a good mood was hard to resist. Of course, Davy in a bad mood had Harry considering leaving the child with Brightfeather for a year or ten.

"Is he… Hagrid are you…"

Hagrid spluttered and Harry burst into peals of laughter, rescuing his son from Hagrid's nerveless grip and tucking him onto his hip. Davy laughed too, amused by his dad's laughter, and Hagrid explained in broken sentences that he was not the other father of the baby, and that Harry had conceived through the help of a specially designed ritual as part of his work.

"I'm a curse breaker," Harry offered, and broke off when another voice called his name. Fleur Delacour was weaving through the throng, and he smiled at the former Champion in greeting. McGonagall blinked and then started searching through the crowd for someone, presumably whomever had come to the ceremony with Fleur.

"Hullo Fleur, you're looking well. Is Gabrielle graduating today? I thought she'd be long gone?" he kissed both cheeks presented as was the style here and Fleur shook her head. She hadn't changed, her hair was still as beautiful as ever, and her robes were the finest of cuts. An intricate wedding band graced one graceful hand, and she had a delicate touch of colour to her cheeks that suited her immensely.

"Non, I am 'ere to zee my baby brozzer graduate," Fleur murmured, "And my 'usband is 'ere to attend a conference as well."

"Oh, the top graduate was your baby brother? Congratulations! Your family must have been pleased," Harry smiled, well aware of her very curious gaze on both the Belly and Davy. He was beginning to find all of these surprises a strain, something that Hagrid evidently picked up on. No matter that Harry had reassured his brother that he was fine, he was completely recovered, and he was coping well with his second pregnancy, Hagrid always fussed over him a little when they were together. Harry joked that he felt like one of Hagrid's misunderstood and dangerous beasts. Hagrid retorted that he'd be fussing over one of them too if they were about to drop a foal. Harry had laughed himself into hiccups.

"Righ' tha's enough, Harry 'ere needs a rest. Minerva…"

"Don't go, Hagrid," Harry looked up at his brother, "Stay a while. You should be enjoying your day, not bothering with me and the brats. I'll see you tonight at dinner anyway. You promised I could take you out for a celebratory meal, and Barbara said she'd have Davy."

"Well, if you're sure," Hagrid looked torn, and Minerva looked disappointed. Hagrid tilted a not too subtle head in her direction and Harry invited her to join them before making his farewells and heading off through the crowd for the relative quiet of a houseful of children, spouses and curse breakers.

0o0o0o0

Thunderous applause greeted the end of his speech, and Harry blushed like a fool, hiding his red cheeks by taking a quaff of the water Ray had arranged to have on hand. Hagrid was sitting in the back row, looking immensely proud, and Minerva – she had insisted that he use her first name at dinner the other night – was seated beside him, also beaming away. Minerva McGonagall had retired from teaching three days after his exile from England, and had gone on to start her own business, transfiguring a wide variety of objects to customer specifications. She'd given Davy a stuffed toy cat that changed into a cardboard book about a cat and it's adventures when its tail was stroked. Davy loved it, and had spent at least an hour last night dragging it around with him, asking every adult in reach to read to him.

Ray came and joined him on the small podium, and took his elbow to steady him down the stairs as the applause trailed off. Minerva had been quite curious about Harry and his new life. Once he had reassured her that he was fully recovered from the final battle and in the hands of good people while he was at work, she had settled in for a gossip with the both of them. She spent most of the evening telling them about the teachers that had been instructing at Hogwarts while they were both there. Harry hadn't asked about the students, not wanting to spend the evening in floods of tears, and he thought that Hagrid had warned her not to bring certain things up, as she avoided any controversial subjects.

"You killed them, boss," Ray muttered, "They'll be talking about you for weeks to come."

"Oh deep joy," Harry rejoined a little sarcastically, his dislike of publicity as strong as ever, "Is Davy behaving?"

"Yep, Ben took him and Madge to the Botanical Gardens in Paris this morning, and according to my last conversation with him they've both been angels," Ray chuckled, "That mirror idea you put us onto was a good one."

Harry smiled a little sadly, thinking of another pair of mirrors from another lifetime. He wondered what James and Sirius would think if they could see him now, and if his mother would be proud of him. He sighed and ducked his head, sternly telling himself to get a grip. Now was not the time to dissolve into a blubbering mess, no matter how tired he was. He hadn't slept well at all last night; he'd been far too uncomfortable and achy.

"Bloody hormones," he muttered in response to Ray's concerned look, and his assistant stepped forward to provide him with a barrier to hide behind and get control of himself. Then Hagrid and Minerva were there, and Hagrid pulled him into a hug and rubbed his aching back.

"Yer need a rest," Hagrid sighed, "But I promised ter let someone come an' say hello."

"Oh?" Harry looked up curiously, "Who?"

"Someone tha' yer know," Hagrid shook his head, "He's bein' watched pretty closely though, so yer'll only have a few seconds with 'im."

"I'll go get him," Minerva volunteered as Hagrid continued to hug and pet Harry, who leaned into the contact tiredly. His body was aching, and his lower back had shot several sharp pains up to his shoulders during the speech that he'd been hard pressed to ignore. Hagrid's touch was warm and familiar, and soothing in a way that said 'safe' and 'home'.

"Harry," a voice breathed quietly, and Harry gasped, turning to face Bill Weasley. The long hair and fang earring were still in evidence, as was a wedding band, matching the one he'd seen on Fleur's hand yesterday. Harry choked back a sob and held his arms out, and Bill stepped in to hug him.

Strong arms held him tight, and Bill was shaking as hard as Harry was. This was the first contact he'd had with a Weasley since his exile five years ago, and it was all he could not to break down right there and then.

"Oh little brother, we've missed you so much. Mum's been so worried about you," the muttered words made Harry cry, "I can't stay, I have to go, they're monitoring us so closely in case you try to sneak back into England."

"Pass it on then, with all my love," Harry choked and forced himself to let go, watching through a veil of tears as Bill stumbled away under Minerva's gentle offices. Ray handed him a handkerchief and Harry mopped at his face, struggling to get himself back into some semblance of control.

That was the moment that his waters chose to break.

0o0o0o0


	6. Chapter 6

0o0o0o0

**0o0o0o0**

**THIRD TOMB**

**0o0o0o0**

Harry put the photos out in order, lining them up precisely to get the full picture as accurate as possible. Francesca leaned on the worktable beside him, and when he was done, she pointed to the symbol that she'd been unable to fit into her translation.

"It's a snake," Harry said at once, "And probably the shape of the next tomb."

"That's what I thought," Frannie sighed, "Let's hope its not guarded by a snake. I'm not too fond of them."

"Does it bother you when I speak to them?" Harry frowned, "You've never seemed afraid…"

"No, no, caro," Francesca smiled and patted his hand, "When you speak to snakes I'm _less_ afraid. It's a relief to know that there is someone who can tell them to go away without biting me. And I'm not afraid so much… they're… oily… just not nice is all."

"Snakes are actually the least oily things in the jungle," Harry chuckled, but Francesca just rolled her eyes at him and dug out the map that they were working on. He didn't say anything else, knowing that a persons fear were often completely irrational.

"Here," she pointed, "The text speaks of a valley, a river, and a plain facing the east, with a triple headed mountain behind them. We've found only two places that this could be, but one of them is a bit of a stretch. This one here is the most likely place for the tomb to be located, but we'll need to search a large area."

"Hmm," Harry looked at the boundaries she'd indicated and thought about the timeline that they were working under. It was better that they had as much time as possible once the tomb was found to get the wards figured out and the ritual re-written. They were nowhere near finished with the second tomb, and if he waited until they were then there was a chance that they wouldn't find the third Gem in time.

"I may have to split the team," Harry muttered, "Ray and Trinket will need to stay and close down the operations at the second tomb before handing it over to the authorities, while we go looking for the third."

"Oh I don't know, Harry. Trinket won't like that, you know he's serious about your safety, and after the conference Ray is never more than two rooms away from you."

"I gave them both a bit of a scare," Harry admitted. He hadn't realised that he was in labour while giving his speech, and seeing Bill Weasley had been such a bittersweet surprise that he'd been as shocked as the others when his waters broke in the lecture hall. Maria Hermione Potter had been in a hurry to make her appearance, and his daughter had been born a scant ninety minutes later in a back room of the conference halls, with Armando out cursing his wife for the entire delivery. Ray had been a rock, holding Harry through each rushed contraction and encouraging him the entire time. From the look on his assistants face, he and Ben would soon be starting a family of their own. Ben and Trinket had been right outside with the Welsh's keeping the curious away.

"I need someone I can trust to ensure that the site is completely catalogued, and that's Ray's area of expertise, and the only other person I trust to keep Ray safe while he's doing that is Trinket," Harry shrugged, "They'll do the job right and then they can rejoin us at the third tomb."

"Well, if you put it like that," Francesca smiled, "They won't be able to object."

0o0o0o0

Maria – May for short – stirred a little at the sound of footsteps, but Harry shushed under his breath and she went back to sleep, her little ear pressed to his heart. Davy had wanted to hear his dad's voice and be held, she wanted his heartbeat. Fortunately, she wasn't overly insistent, and could go for hours at a time without it; otherwise, Harry would be no closer to finding the Third Tomb.

They had searched the 'most likely spot' first, and had done so very thoroughly, but there had been nothing to find. This was the second most likely place, and Harry thought that they were very close. There was a feeling to the area that was reminiscent of the other two tombs, even Harding had commented on it. Now it was a matter of searching in slow and painstaking fashion until they found it.

Armando had demanded a day of rest for the team, and the Kowalski's had backed him up. Truth be told Harry felt he could use a break as well, and so they had camped in a small clearing near a stream, and the sound of the water had sent the quads off to sleep as if a switch had been thrown. Francesca had sent Armando to record hours of it on their gramophone for future use. Harry had spent the time sitting outside his tent in his canvas chair with his daughter snoozing on his chest, watching the wildlife go by.

"Hello Harry," Harding whispered and sank into his spare canvas chair, grunting in approval at the unexpected comfort of them, "Do you thing it was a good idea to leave Trinket with Ray and Ben?"

"What are you worried about?" Harry asked curiously. Harding and Trinket got along quite well with each other; in fact, it had been Harding that Trinket first warmed to. They'd had regular reports from both Ray and Trinket, indicating that everything was going smoothly at the second site. Ray thought that they would be able to complete their task in the next two weeks and was already planning the handover.

"Ray doesn't need to learn any more of Trinket's poker plays, the man is a shark," Harding rumbled, and Harry snickered into May's hair. The team played a very competitive game of poker; it wasn't all cursed tombs and archaic rituals. Harding and Elaine had started the tradition of a Friday night game, and it was a nice way to unwind. The team didn't really keep to weekends and holiday times, it being understood that once the last tomb was dealt with they would take two years – their accumulated leave – off in one long block. The Welsh's had already scouted out a good spot next to Lake Victoria that would hold the whole team, and Harry was looking forward to it in a vague sort of way.

"How is Peter?" the eldest Welsh had fallen out of a tree earlier this morning, to the consternation of his parents and siblings. Harry had been inside at the time of the accident, tending to his children, and had only heard about it after the fact.

"Fine, Armando had him healed in no time," Harding shook his head, "That boy is part monkey anyway, he'll do worse than fall out of a tree by the time he's done, you mark my words."

"Maybe I should get Madge to give him some lessons," Harry snickered quietly and Harding chuckled. May kicked a little at the noise, but didn't wake. Harding noticed and considerately stifled his own chuckles, pulling an apologetic face.

"Elaine noticed that the feeling in this valley is similar to the feeling around the tombs this morning," Harding reported, "It's official. We've all noticed it now, though not as keenly as you did when we arrived."

Harry had very nearly fainted, much to the consternation of his elves, his son and his team. The longer he spent around the Gems the more attuned he was becoming to them. He was hoping that his reaction was merely because he was a little run down – he had the beginnings of a cold, for which Armando was dosing him with pepper up potion.

"That wasn't entirely due to the tomb," Harry confided reluctantly, "I noticed the second tomb just as strongly and managed to stay on my feet then."

"You've got to take care of yourself, Harry," Harding sighed, "But I won't nag you, that's what Armando is for."

"And he's good at his job," Harry smiled, "To what do I owe the pleasure, Harding? You don't usually come to tell me off about poker."

"We've been looking at the maps again," Harding pulled a three-foot long roll out of his shirt pocket and Harry grinned at the incongruous sight. After all this time, he still loved the way magic could surprise him. Harding unrolled the map and cast a spell to make it float so they could both see it.

"This is the stream we're camped at. Elaine noticed the feel of the area when she was paddling in it with the Littlest," that was the Welsh family nickname for Davy's playmate, "Francesca and I also went paddling and we noticed that the feeling got stronger when we were in the water."

"You think the stream runs through the tomb, or is helping to conceal the tomb," Harry surmised, and batted his eyes at his arithmancer when the man gave him a slightly surprised look, "I'm not just a pretty face you know."

"Some would say you weren't even a pretty face," Harding replied very good-naturedly, and Harry gave a put upon sigh.

"I get no respect," he muttered, though truth be told he was delighted. His team treated him as a person first and then a boss. Harry rarely had to pull 'rank' over his employees, unlike some curse breakers he'd worked with. They came to mutual decisions about how to proceed, and that was one of the things that Harry attributed their success to.

"You have to pay extra for that," was the returning comment and Harry grinned. He reached out the hand that wasn't holding on to May and pointed to a small pool upstream.

"That plunge pool is the most likely candidate," he noted, "Any further away and you wouldn't feel the magical current, it would be too badly disturbed by the waterfall. We should head up there tomorrow on the carpet and have a look."

"The Persian? Nice," Harding approved, "I may have to look into getting one of these myself."

"I find them very useful for lugging heavy objects around," Harry agreed, tongue in cheek, and Harding snorted and rolled up the map with a flick of his wrist. He leaned over to peer at the sleeping May and then stood, saluted with the chart and sauntered off to let Francesca and Elaine know about tomorrow's destination.

"Master Harry needs a snack now," Winky announced softly from the tent, and moments later, she appeared with a floating tray. She had a selection of his favourite fruits and a cool drink for him, and he smiled at her gratefully.

He really was terribly spoilt by everyone.

0o0o0o0

Dear Hagrid,

Thank you for the photos from your graduation. I've made copies of the ones that I took (see enclosed) and now we each have the full set. The picture of Minerva, yourself and Davy came out particularly well, and as you can see, the custard stains are hardly noticeable. I've also sent you copies of the pictures we took of May, who is a far more placid sleeper than her big brother! Madge is not at all interested in her, which reassures Davy I think; there are times when he's not best pleased to be sharing me with his little sister!

I've also sent a couple of photos of the tomb, with myself and Trinket standing in front to give you an idea of the sheer size of it. It's hidden beneath a waterfall, and it took a tricky bit of spell casting to deactivate the wards on the water so that we could get closer to the door. As you can see, the entrance is through the Basilisk's mouth – at least I think it's supposed to be a Basilisk, it certainly looks like the one in the Chamber of Secrets, only ten times larger!

Trinket has had some sad news – or rather, he has made a very difficult decision – and he has repudiated his wife. She has been sent back to her Clan under something of a cloud, and I'm not sure what will happen now. She couldn't accept the conditions that Trinket was living under, and had become rather vocal about them. Trinket decided he'd had enough, and arrived at the third tomb wife free. He assures me that it is her Clan and reputation that will suffer, and I can't say I'm heartbroken to see her go, though I do wish it was under better circumstances. I worry that he'll feel lonely without companionship, but as he says I'm not his matchmaker, and I should just 'butt out already Potter'.

In other news, Ray and Ben have decided to start a family, and Trinket apparently cast the spell for them while they were all together at the second site. Ben is bearing the child for them, and Ray is hugely proud of his spouse. If all goes well, Ben will be going back to Canada before his delivery, and Ray with him. We'll join them when I hit my five-month limit, by which time their baby will have arrived. Ben says he wants his mother for the delivery, and she's a midwife, so that makes it a nice family tradition. Barbara Kowalski is talking about bonding another elf, to help her keep up with the children.

Winky says she has a cousin that may suit her, so Winky is off travelling to find said cousin and Davy and I are at the mercy of Dobby, who is being very strict with us. May gets off scott free as she's too young to follow orders. She loves the cradle you made us as much as Davy did, and she also hisses a bit to the snake at the bottom. Davy now speaks odd words in Parseltongue as well as English, and when he's excited, he forgets that the others can't understand him. Francesca is determined to learn the language, but she's unable to pronounce the simple words that I've tried to teach her, and I think it will have to be given up as a lost cause.

We're waiting for the next full moon, and then the ritual will be performed. I've decided that the team will have to wait to go in, as I think there may actually be a pretty big snake in the tomb itself, and I want to wait a couple of days after the ritual to get my strength back before I investigate. I've been hearing stray words around the place, and I haven't been able to spot any smaller snakes that would account for it. I'll keep you updated on the situation.

Brightfeather arrived yesterday to inspect May, and she seems to have met with approval. The rest of the flight are probably still at the lake as the younger foals wouldn't be able to make such a long flight yet. The tomb also made Brightfeather very uneasy, so I have a feeling that we won't be seeing much of him at this particular site until we've thoroughly removed and negated the wards.

Well, that's all the news for now. Send my regards to Madam Maxime and thank her again, for the wonderful seat she got Davy and I at the ceremony. I hope this letter finds you as well as it leaves me, and send all our love…

Harry, Davy and May.

0o0o0o0

_**Extract from 'Harry Potter: The Man behind the Legend. An Unofficial Biography'**_

… _The Third Tomb of Anacosta proved to have several more surprises than Harry Potter and his team had originally bargained on; though there is some mention in the Potter Journals that Harry Potter at least suspected the presence of a large species of magical serpent. Ten scant days after becoming pregnant with his third child, Harry Potter killed a basilisk, the second he had ever encountered in the course of his career._

_In addition, he also discovered a nest of Peruvian Fire Wyrms, a breed of dragons believed to be extinct. This small nest was eventually relocated to a nearby network of caves, and the Potter Dragon Preserve was established. The Peruvian Fire Wyrms flourished in their new homes, and the Preserve currently houses over five hundred of them. There are unconfirmed reports that Harry Potter could communicate with the Fire Wyrms, using the snake language known as Parseltongue. Eventually his eldest daughter took over the management of the Preserve upon her graduation from school…_

0o0o0o0

"This is incredible," Francesca muttered, "Harry have you seen this? Are you _seeing_ this?"

"Yes, Frannie," Harry said patiently for the fourth time in as many hours, "I am seeing it. I don't understand it, but I'm not blind…"

If he heard it for a fifth time, he was going to throw up on her shoe and blame it on the morning sickness. At least this time he was prepared for it, and able to handle the whole mess with a lot more grace. He and Armando had worked out an entire system when he'd been so sick with May, and once he'd picked up the first signs of morning sickness he'd started preventative measures, which didn't spare him completely, but at least let him avoid the worst of it.

"Oh shut up," Frannie scolded, "You're such a philistine. This is going to revolutionise our understanding of the writing systems that we've been seeing in the last few tombs."

"I sense a publication coming on," Harry snickered and Ray snorted from his position further down the damp corridor. The tomb was mostly dry, though there had been a few corridors with water running through them. The team had been unwilling to destroy the local ecosystem by diverting the entire river while they examined the tomb beneath its bed, so Harding and Elaine had come up with several very skilful spells to extend the waterfall, allowing them to create a cave, which had one wall made of moving water. The watery space in front of the tomb was a little unnerving; though that would fade once the residual magic drained off in the water.

Frannie humphed at him, and Harry shot her a little smile before returning his attention to the seemingly blank stretch of wall in front of him.

"There's definitely a chamber here, Ray," he called back to his assistant, "It's got some very intricate spells on it though. Can you see if Elaine is available to come and look?"

"Sure, boss," Ray replied and headed off towards the entrance. Francesca's muttering continued uninterrupted and Harry straightened up from his crouch carefully, wincing and rubbing at his left hip. It had been badly damaged in the last battle, and the cool damp of this tomb was playing merry hell with it. As a result, Harry moved with a slight limp that didn't really affect his speed or flexibility, and in fact, he very rarely considered the old injury, even at the end of a pregnancy. Sudden shifts in temperature – like the ones that heralded a storm – or prolonged exposure to cold and damp conditions made it act up, and he found it hard to get down onto the floor to play with Davy or May at the end of the working day.

"Has Armando looked at that?" Francesca didn't look up from her work, and Harry rolled his eyes, silently berating himself for letting her see his moment of weakness. The team had enough to do without worrying about him as well.

"Several times," Harry confirmed, "There's nothing to be done about it, so stop worrying."

"I don't like to see you in pain, caro," Francesca didn't even look up, and Harry wondered how much of this little side conversation she was paying attention to.

"None of us do," Elaine said from further up the corridor, though she couldn't be seen yet. The tomb had several freaky sections of tunnel that acted as funnels for sound. You could have conversations with people that you couldn't see, that were in fact on the other side of several tons of rock, and hear them perfectly. It had been a little unnerving at first, but now Harry was used to the idea. The acoustics had been partially responsible for his ability to hear the basilisk even before they'd opened the tomb.

"It's an old war wound," Harry shook his head, "Really, it's nothing to worry about."

"Such a macho man," Elaine mocked lightly and Ray snickered from behind her as they rounded the corner. Harry stuck his tongue out at her and readied his wand.

"I want to call up the spells protecting the chamber behind this door," he told her, "Can you record them for me?"

"Sure," Elaine smiled and Harry smiled back before calling up the fine level of control he would need to flare the magic in front of him into visual range for her. Ray moved forward and took several photos as well, which wasn't always effective as the magic could be particularly wily about hiding in this sort of situation and the camera was a non-sentient, inorganic observer.

Elaine wrote and sketched furiously for several minutes as Harry made minute adjustments to his wand grip and stance to keep the magic stable for her. Francesca was watching as well, her own interest in the writing panel in front of her temporarily on hold.

"Elaine," Harry's eyes widened, "Hurry!"

Elaine took a quick glance at him and her graphite pencil flew even faster before she stepped back with a sharp nod. The wards in front of them surged and Harry growled, stepping forward and surging his own personal reserves to wrestle them back into a quiescent state. For a moment, the corridor lit up with flashes of magic as small rivulets leaked out of his network of spells, and then with a final surge, he got it contained and the magic flowed away peacefully.

Three seconds later Harry was heaving his guts up, one hand resting on the wall for balance.

"Oh dear," Elaine rubbed his back, "Easy there, easy now."

"Do you need Armando?" Ray asked in a tight voice. He'd learned to control his gag reflex when Ben's morning sickness had hit, but that didn't mean he was comfortable with the whole puking up thing.

"No," Harry gasped, and shuddered through a few queasy moments before getting his breath back and his stomach under control. Francesca gave him a mouth-cleaning spell, and Ray vanished the sick with a quick flick of his wrist while Elaine cleared the few splatters from Harry's work boots and trouser legs. Harry uncapped his hip flask and sipped at the ginger ale it contained carefully, pulling a biscuit from his pocket as well. He never went anywhere without some supplies on hand now.

"Did you get all of the wards, or should I call Trinket?" Ray asked, clearly wanting to give Harry some time to get back on an even keel. Harry toasted his assistant with his flask and Elaine chuckled.

"No I got it all," she turned to Harry, a slightly wary look in her eyes, "Was the sickness caused by the wards, or did the wards flare because of the sickness?"

A fair question, though Harry could understand why she was reluctant to ask it. One answer would get him disqualified from the site for the day, and the other would get him a mandatory check up with Armando at the end of the day. He was touchy about his health, always had been, and his team tried not to rub it in when he had restrictions placed on him by his body.

"The sickness came after containing the wards," Harry gave her a reassuring smile, "And I'll go see Armando by the end of the day."

Elaine nodded and they all turned when Trinket rounded the corner, trying to look as if he wasn't hurrying towards Harry.

"What is this, a town meeting?" the Goblin asked with asperity, and the rest of them laughed, the small amount of tension in the corridor flowing away like the river above their heads.

0o0o0o0


	7. Chapter 7

0o0o0o0

0o0o0o0

The clink of the golden coins as Harry pulled the small pot towards him was actually quite satisfying. He grinned in Ray's direction and unwrapped one of the coins, popping the chocolate into his mouth. He'd remembered the Muggle sweet when Trinket had complained that betting for small round coloured food items just wasn't the same as betting with gold. Harry had sent Dobby off to discretely locate a shop that sold them, and the team now had a standing order of gambling currency. They didn't bet for actual money – Harry had been on a site in his apprentice days where betting with real money had meant some members of the team forfeited their share in the profits at the end of the excavation. He didn't think that would happen here, but he'd put the restriction in place long before they got serious about their weekly poker nights.

"I can't believe there is only a month and a half to go," Ben sighed, "And we're leaving next week. I had hoped to spend more time studying that cluster of plants to the south of the plunge pool."

"The one that the Fire Wyrms were… fertilising?" Harry asked as he dealt the cards around, "I thought that you had samples of them?"

"I can't risk importing live cuttings to Canada until I finish the study. The plants are a little more… mobile than I'd like and the risk of cross pollination, not to mention them breeding like weeds in Canadian soil is too great," Ben replied and anted up.

"You don't want mobile plants like that running around Canada," Ray agreed, "Some of the Northern Territories are really delicately balanced. The introduction of completely new and aggressive plants could be an ecological disaster."

"Are we playing poker or talking?" Trinket grumbled and discarded a couple of cards. Harry grinned at the Goblin and Francesca rolled her eyes. Trinket didn't approve of conversation while they played poker, though the rest of the team couldn't seem to manage without it. Harry thought that it was the trivial nature of the conversations that annoyed the Goblin more than the fact that they were talking, but this was a social game, and not everything could be about work; it wasn't healthy.

"We can't do both?" Francesca teased, also discarding, "Could one of us go and take measurements or something for you Ben? If you told us what you wanted we could manage it."

"I've got all the data I need," Ben confessed, "I just…"

"Am completely and unnaturally fascinated," Harding butted in, "By plants that thrive in dragon sh… ow! Don't kick me woman!"

"Don't swear then," Elaine said placidly, "I'll take two cards, Harry."

"Two for the lady," Harry dealt again and sat back, sipping on the ever present ginger ale with a sigh. He was once again headed into backache territory, and every time that he got to this stage of his pregnancy, he wondered why the hell he did it. Of course, that only lasted until his son beamed up at him while clutching his knee or his daughter pounced on his foot with a shrill giggle.

"Are we going to try opening that hidden chamber again tomorrow?" Harding asked as people settled into the betting. Trinket had tried opening the chamber last week, and had only been released from the hospital tent in time for this evening's game. The wards had been far too strong for him, and it was speculated that only Harry would be strong enough to remove the wards without assistance.

"No," Harry replied, calling the last bet, "I don't want Trinket risking himself like that again, and after the violent reaction the wards had to our meddling, I'm not willing to take the risk at this time either. My pregnancy is almost entirely maintained by magic, and to start draining it now…"

"Good point," Ray interrupted his face pale. Harry knew that his team wouldn't think less of him for putting his baby before the warded chamber, and smiled at his assistant gently.

"I'll help Trinket with it after the delivery," he informed the table, "And I want you all to continue to avoid that corridor for a while. Its possible the wards will be on a heightened footing for a bit, and I don't want anyone accidentally maimed or killed."

"Intentional maiming and killing is ok though," Harding snarked before laying out his cards on the table with a small smirk, "Full house."

"Straight flush aces high," Armando spoke up for the first time, and everyone groaned. The team Healer leaned over and pulled the pot towards him with a light chuckle.

"Vecchio, you're so quiet I forgot you were there," Trinket complained, and Harry grinned as Armando shared some of his spoils with his wife, ignoring the Goblin's poor humour with the ease of long practice. Trinket was a terrible patient, worse even than Harry, and Armando had his hands full for the week that Trinket had been an unhappy guest in his hospital tent.

"Another hand?" Elaine asked, and Ben shook his head, pulling a regretful face.

"I've got to get some sleep now, while the baby is quiet. Why didn't you warn me that it would have a thousand elbows and knees?" he mock whined to the two women at the table, and Harry snickered. He thought that Ben would have remembered his complaints on that front at the very least.

"A lady never reveals her secrets," Francesca said primly, and Elaine laughed at the disgust on Ben's face. Harry straightened his own expression to one of long suffering sympathy when Ben looked his way and seemed to gain some brownie points for the effort.

Ray got up and then helped Ben up, one hand rubbing his lovers lower back gently to relieve the ache there. Harry looked away, trying not to show the longing he felt for a particular person to be there with him, to share his joys and soothe his little aches. Sometimes this longing blindsided him, and he had to fight himself hard not to resent that Ben got to have the person he loved with him for all of this. Ben and Ray were perfectly suited to each other; a pair of complementary opposites in temperament and habits, and their happiness didn't deserve to be tarnished by his occasional fits of lonely jealousy.

"Potter," Trinket said it quietly, and Harry smiled at the Goblin, recalling his attention to his team, who were standing up and saying goodnight. He packed away the cards with a flick of his wand and sent the chocolate he'd won to the tent for Davy and May to share in small lots for the next week. Healthy diets were all well and good, but Harry had grown up with no sweets at all until he went to Hogwarts and he wasn't going to let his children experience the same thing.

"Can I speak with you Potter?" Trinket asked and Harry nodded, heaving himself up with a sigh and following the Goblin to his tent. Trinket rarely invited Harry in, though the rest of the team came and went with some regularity. It had to do with the lines of privacy drawn by the life debt, and Harry respected that. Trinket needed a space that was inviolate from his master, and if Harry had been overbearing and troublesome, then that space would have been a much needed refuge and haven.

Trinket had decorated with the typical heavy and rich fabrics of his people, coarse threads picking out surprisingly delicate embroidery, dark finely crafted stone forming the base of the few items of furniture. The colours were sombre with the occasional startling splash of vivid brightness. Harry sat in the stone chair that was reserved for his special use, that Trinket himself had wrought from stone for him, smiling as he had the very first time he'd seen the chair and its beautiful lines. He'd thanked his fellow curse breaker at the time, much to Trinket's surprise. Apparently Trinket's ability as a stone wright was considered to be on the low end of the spectrum by his family, a piece of information that had been relayed with such bitterness that Harry had been unable to restrain his retort about how well Trinket's Clan had judged him in the first place. Looking back, Harry felt that stinging remark had brought the first thaw in their relationship, leading to their eventual friendship; a friendship that had taken three years of solid effort on both their parts and was all the more precious for that effort.

"You are not with us tonight, Potter," Trinket muttered and Harry shook himself from his thoughts.

"Sorry, Trinket," he sighed, "It happens now and then… especially today."

"Ah, your anniversary," Trinket's eyes darkened, and Harry nodded, seeing the Ministry officials enter his hospital room once more, their grim faces and shamed hunches telling him that he was about to hear something he really didn't want to know. He'd forced himself to his feet, instincts honed on the battlefield telling him that this wasn't something he wanted to hear lying down.

"I want to talk to you about Argent," Trinket didn't probe for more information, a mercy that Harry cherished. He hadn't talked about it with his team, though he assumed that they had read the public accounts of the events leading up to his exile.

"I'm listening," Harry encouraged the Goblin curiously. Trinket bared his teeth in exasperation, and drummed his fingers on the arm of his own chair, set opposite Harry's.

"Her Clan have contacted me. It is possible for me to … renounce the repudiation of her at this time. This will be my only opportunity to save my marriage. If I confirm the repudiation then she will be forever parted from me, and…"

"You don't want to be alone," Harry recognised the heart of the matter, though he knew his friend would never couch it so emotionally. Trinket bared his teeth again but nodded, not meeting Harry's eyes. Evidently, Trinket had been closer to his wife than Harry had thought.

"Then call her back," Harry smiled, "Trinket, I had hoped that you would already know I would not deny you this."

"It's not that," Trinket shook his head, "I wish to place some conditions on her return, and those will need your approval."

"What are they?" Harry wondered aloud, his mind whirling with possibilities. Any restriction he enforced on Argent would only increase her resentment of him, and anything that made it harder to win her over wasn't something he could take lightly.

"There are two conditions," Trinket sighed, "Firstly, that she be accompanied by a member of her family and their spouse. The one I have in mind is a stone smith, an occupation that is unusual for her family and has caused him no little censure. We became acquainted at the wedding, and he is a good man. He can practice his craft anywhere and…"

"You want him to have a chance to practice his craft without his family interfering," Harry realised, honoured by the trust that Trinket was showing him. To introduce more Goblins to the camp wouldn't be a problem, though Harry did wonder if they would be able to accommodate two people who would be entirely unrelated to the team's endeavours. Ben and Armando were involved through their spouses, and the Kowalski's were involved through the children. The stone smith would have no ties other than his sister's husband, a tenuous link at best.

"Yes," Trinket sighed, "He and his wife would set up their work in the back of the camp and it would be through that work that they would support themselves. Gringott's would have no role in their work, unless they were contracted to work for the team in some capacity."

"Hmm," Harry leaned back, one hand stroking the arm of his chair absently, the other rubbing the restless baby that was poking him in the side. It was a risk, but if it was made clear that the smith was entirely responsible for his own income then Harry could see no reason to deny the request.

"You'd state that the reason for his attendance would be to… curb Argent's tongue?" Harry mused aloud and Trinket nodded, "And we'd have to couch it so that it seemed like we were offering them a chance to redeem their daughter… Well, as long as it is made clear that the stone smith and his spouse are responsible for their own living, I can see no reason not to include them in your conditions. What were the second set of conditions you wanted?"

Trinket shifted in his chair again, swallowing harshly. Harry waited patiently, knowing better by now than to push the Goblin for more until he was ready. They were very alike in some ways. He had a feeling that it was the second set of conditions that were likely to be the more startling, a feeling that was confirmed when Trinket next spoke.

"I want to have children," Trinket announced flatly, "I… see yours, and… they even call me uncle… It has made me aware… I want my own."

"You… did she refuse to have children before?" Harry was uneasy intruding this far into Trinket's marriage, but he couldn't condone forcing a woman to bear children she didn't want.

"No…" Trinket blew out a gusty sigh, "It _was_ a bone of contention between us, but not for the reason you may think. I am not… you must give permission for me to become a father… the presence of my own child could …."

"Interfere with your ability or willingness to comply with the life debt," Harry realised, "Sweet Circe, Trinket. Of course you can have children, as many as you wish. If I could erase the debt between us, I would, you know that."

"To do so would be to dishonour me," Trinket squared his shoulders, a gesture that was oddly vulnerable, "Although my Clan considers me little better than a slave, I have not thought of myself that way for years. You have never once treated me as less than the others on the team. Your honour knows no bounds, and nor does my esteem."

"Thank you," Harry bowed his head, and took a shaky breath, relieved to hear that he had managed to give Trinket all the respect and esteem that the other was due.

"I will draft a letter to Argent's Clan, and a second to her brother Gripclaw. You will need to peruse them before I send them," Trinket stood and Harry smiled, also standing. Trinket stepped forward and took both of Harry's hands in his, bowing over them in solemn respect, and squeezing gently once before straightening and letting go. Harry had to take a sharp breath to avoid embarrassing himself, and turned for the entrance to the tent, feeling Trinket match him pace for pace.

"Come Potter," the gruff voice was oddly gentle, "I will walk you to your tent."

0o0o0o0

Dear Hagrid,

Thanks for the photos of the new Preserve. I can't believe you named it after me! I thought that the Rubeus Hagrid Haven for Misunderstood Beasties – as per Minerva's suggestion – was a much better name for it. I guess we shouldn't let Scottish women who've gotten into the sherry name dragon preserves, so I won't quibble too much about the name after all. I'm glad to hear that Minerva was able to join you for your holiday to Peru, and sorry to have missed you both, but Armando is adamant about the five month rule, and this time he was absolutely right.

I told you that the team was joining Ray and Ben in Canada, yes? And that they'd had a healthy daughter – I'm sure I sent a photo of little Victoria. Well, when we joined them there was a dose of flu going around, which Davy and May both caught simultaneously. So did the quads, the Littlest and Peter Welsh, and Ray as well. With so many sick people around, sleep was a rare commodity, and the stress of it all induced me to deliver a bit earlier than planned.

The photos – and when have we ever sent a letter without one? I've had to start a fifth album! – are of Elizabeth Molly and her proud siblings. Beth (we've already shortened her name) was not at all harmed by her early arrival, and neither was I. Ben's mother Caroline delivered me, as Armando was busy with his own children at the time, and I think I'm getting the hang of the whole process now. You can add the pictures of Beth and her happy family to your collection of the _Potter Familias:_ a dangerous and misunderstood breed if ever I saw one. As you can see in the last, I'm fine, and being spoilt rotten by Dobby and Winky. It's a good thing that May had graduated to her cot already, because her little sister needs the cradle.

In other news, Trinket and Argent have finally set a date for their reconciliation, and we have welcomed the arrival of Gripclaw and his wife Gravel to the team. They are currently waiting for the final approval of the tents they intend to bring out to the site with them, as one will have a portal to a shop front in Venice. You wouldn't have thought a stone smith would ply his trade in a city that is sinking, but there you go. Gripclaw's business is entirely under his own command, and they are the first couple that are going us that are not at all related to the team's work. If this goes ok, Ben is thinking of inviting a second Herbologist to join him in the field. He hasn't said who it is yet, as he isn't sure if this guy would be willing to come. Apparently, he's a top name, and a bit hard to pin down.

We're well on the way to the status of a small village and if this keeps up, we may have to start thinking about electing a mayor! Not really, but it is funny to think that what started as an experiment in keeping people happy is rapidly becoming a way of life…

Oh! You should have seen that Hagrid! Davy just levitated his teddy! This is the first sign of magic I've seen in him, though I knew he had some ability as I could detect his magical core. He wanted to show teddy to Beth, and because I was busy writing you a letter he took matters into his own hands! He's grinning at me as if it was nothing out of the ordinary to be showing magic so early, and him not quite older than two years old! I have to go hug my son, so I'll stop here, sending all our love…

Harry, Davy, May and Beth

0o0o0o0

"Harry!"

The name sounded like it was being called by someone a long way away, standing in the belfry of the Notre Dame while the Hunchback was ringing for all he was worth. The rough surface he was lying on wasn't entirely stable, and when he opened his eyes he realised it was because the entire structure was ballooning in and out, a bit like a cartoon he'd once seen Dudley watch.

His head felt… fizzy… and his body was a distant, heavy weight that wasn't sure it was connected to him. One minute he could hear clearly, the next he was underwater, the next back in Notre Dame. His vision was blurred, and sometimes obstructed by a nasty haze of red that made his eyes sting terribly until he blinked to clear them. Everything was terribly blurred as well, but he thought that might be because he didn't seem to have his glasses on.

"Potter!"

"Harry! Can you hear us? Armando?"

"I don't have any life signs!"

Harry wondered why Armando didn't have any life signs, as he was obviously not dead – dead Healers didn't announce that they had died, did they?

"Potter! Let me go!"

Trinket was sounding angry about something, but Harry checked his hands. He wasn't holding onto anyone or anything. The surface he was lying on gave a lurch and he dug his fingers into it to stop himself from being flung off.

"He moved!"

Harry frowned at the pain in his arm and leg, but forced himself to slowly get to his feet. People were calling frantically, and Armando kept repeating the same things over and over again, but that didn't make much sense to him among the echoing and overlapping noise so he left it be. The wall in front of him was scarred with magic, but nothing lethal and Harry needed it to say upright. His left arm was wet, and he hoped that didn't mean that the structure was leaking, especially as he was sure it wasn't supposed to be flexing and swooping about like this. It made him feel sick to his stomach.

"Potter! Let me out of here!" Trinket roared, and Harry wavered on the spot, unable to support his weight on his numb left leg without letting go of the wall, which he dimly sensed was a Bad Thing to do. His head was beginning to hurt, the old scar pain roaring to life with a vengeance and there was something tugging at his insides.

"Stop it Trinket! You'll hurt him!" Armando barked, "We have to find a way to get him to release the shields before he passes out again without forcing it."

"Can't we just wait until he faints again?" Elaine sounded upset, and no wonder. It wasn't a nice thing to say about someone, and Harry hoped that she treated him better than whoever it was she wanted to faint.

"He held them unconscious before, and they're interfering with my diagnostic spells. He could bleed to death before we get to him if we wait," Armando sounded very urgent, and Harry looked hazily around for someone who was bleeding. Maybe he could help.

The wall had a seam in it, probably the edge of a door, and Harry explored it curiously with his fingers. Maybe whoever was bleeding was on the other side of the door. Something was bothering him, but he couldn't quite place it. He felt that he was missing something important, and for the life of him couldn't remember what it was. He propped himself up on the door for a moment and risked fishing his pocket watch out.

Squinting fiercely, he ignored the calling voices to make out the time. Ah, it was dinnertime. He should have packed up a while ago to have dinner with the children. His stomach did a slow roll, and Harry swallowed the sour flavour in his mouth. He put the watch away and turned automatically in the direction that would lead to the tombs main doors. The tugging sensation dropped away as he steeled himself to take that first painful step.

"Finally!" Trinket roared and appeared in front of Harry as if by magic. There were running footsteps as well, and Harry whimpered a little when Trinket reached up and braced him carefully.

"Easy Potter, you'll be ok," Trinket mumbled, and Harry nodded. The top of his head floated clean off unexpectedly, and the world rushed away in a cloud of white noise.

0o0o0o0

"Dad Dad Dad."

"Davy Davy Davy," Harry grinned, and opened heavy eyes. His children had fallen into the habit of repeating his name, at least the two who could talk did, and he repeated their name back – it was a little game they played together.

His son was leaning on his good leg, patting his knee, and Harry lifted the hand that wasn't strapped to his chest to pat Davy on the head gently. He'd been allowed to sit outside this afternoon, in a specially designed chair that Armando had produced from who knows where, and the mixture of sunlight and slight breeze had sent him to sleep.

"Did you have a good day with Missus Barbara?" he asked, and Davy beamed up at him happily. He hadn't spent as much time with his children as he would have liked, what with his initial injuries and slow recovery. He was sure he used to just bounce back from this sort of thing, but perhaps it was a sign that he was getting old. He'd hit his mid twenties already.

"There was a parrot and a monkey!" Davy nodded, and Harry wondered if that had been a story or an actual event. Madge chattered at him from the ground beside Davy's feet, and he smiled at the Tamarind fondly.

"And did you draw anything for me today?" he continued the conversation, and Davy nodded enthusiastically. His son loved drawing, and Harry had given him a small book with blank pages of his own to draw in. Davy used it as a sort of journal, recording his daily and past events in pictorial form.

"I drawed the sky and the moon and the clouds and us on the carpet Dad," Davy informed him, "And May painted her hands and the table and the chair and the front of Missus Barbara."

"Oh dear," he smiled, and looked up when Barbara Kowalski approached with May tucked onto her hip.

"Dad!" his daughter yelled and waved her arms enthusiastically. Barbara tightened her hold when May lunged for him, and Harry braced himself for the impact. The wounds were still painful and tender, and his daughter didn't understand why her father was so pale and fragile at the moment.

"No May," Barbara said firmly, "You must be soft with Daddy while he is sick."

"Dad," May's light green eyes held a sad look but she nodded and sat very still when placed on Harry's good leg. He patted her on the back and tweaked a lock of dark wavy hair to get her to smile. The wounds he'd incurred disabling the wards on the hidden chamber were slow to heal, inflicted as they had been by malicious magic. He'd reopened them once by accident, grabbing for May when she'd come to visit him and almost tumbled off the bed in her excitement. Since then his children had only been allowed very short supervised visits.

"I hear there was painting?" he asked Barbara, who rolled her eyes and nodded. She smiled good-naturedly at the child in Harry's lap, affection in her eyes. They'd made a very good choice when they'd hired the Kowalski's – his team had even complimented him on his superior interviewing skills… 'after all you had the sense to hire us' was one of the comments made.

"There was also washing and changing and quite a bit of scourgify," she chuckled, "Even the quads are better painters than your daughter."

"Well, I guess I can cross 'artist' off the list of possible careers," Harry told May, who beamed at him happily. Barbara bent down to pick up Davy and Harry gave his son a kiss on the cheek, nuzzling the soft cheek for good measure and telling his son goodnight. He did the same for May and watched the children as they were taken away to bed.

"You're awake," Armando came out of the hospital tent and then spotted the children, "Ah, I see… visiting time."

"I miss them," Harry confessed, and looked up at the Healer, "I know it can't be helped, but I miss playing with them."

"You will be with them again soon," Armando promised, "You've got to heal properly first."

Harry nodded and leaned back into the very comfortable chair. It had been a week and a half since he and Trinket had taken on the wards disguising the hidden chamber, and he still wasn't entirely sure what had happened. The team were coming by tonight to debrief with him and tell him what the chamber had been holding. He felt a little left out, he'd wanted to be there and make the discoveries himself, but that was just his love of a good mystery speaking.

"Come on, then," Armando said gently, "Come inside and have some dinner. Your elf Dobby was here, and has left you a delicious looking meal."

Dobby knew how to tempt Harry's appetite through just about any illness or malaise, and as Armando levitated the chair and Harry into the hospital tent, Harry wondered what treat was in store for him tonight.

0o0o0o0

"To start with, Potter, we need to know what you remember," Trinket announced as the team settled onto beds and chairs around him. Harry was propped up as comfortably as a bum leg and torn arm would allow, his stomach pleasantly full from the shepherds pie that Dobby had made for him.

"Not a bloody thing," Harry said ruefully, "I know that you and I were going to work on dismantling the wards on that hidden chamber, and I think I remember that Armando and Elaine were in the vicinity when we did, but of the actual work, or how I ended up with these injuries… nada."

"To be expected," Armando didn't seem at all fazed by Harry's memory loss, "The blow to your head, coupled with your scar bursting open like that… I'm frankly surprised you haven't lost more memory than you did."

"I'm surprised he's not dead," Harding muttered, "From our analysis of the magical backlash, you channelled enough magical energy to kill you three times over."

"I've made a career of surviving things like that," Harry sighed uncomfortably, "So are you going to tell me what happened or do I have to put on the bosses hat, as Ray would say?"

Ray grinned at him from where he was perched, and several people rolled their eyes. Harry didn't expect them to take the threat seriously, but he did expect to be told what had happened. Armando had been dancing around the topic ever since he woke, and Harry's curiosity was well and truly piqued.

"We started by reviewing the charts that Welsh and Welsh had provided," Trinket announced heavily, and Harry directed his attention to the Goblin. With a start, he realised that Argent was sitting beside her mate, sitting very still and quiet. He hadn't even noticed her, which was unusual.

"The charts _were_ precise," Harding grunted, "Based upon the wards that you showed Elaine, you _should_ have been able to take the defences down safely."

"I never thought they wouldn't be accurate," Harry assured his arithmancers, detecting the reason that Armando had been so hesitant to discuss this. The team must have been trying to get the events sorted out perfectly before presenting their findings to him. If there had been an error in the arithmancy that would have been a serious matter indeed. The mistake had very nearly cost lives.

"So there was a second set of wards below the first?" Harry asked, "Ones that I didn't detect and therefore Elaine couldn't have diagrammed for us?"

"I hate it when you do that caro," Francesca muttered, "It's taken us a week to confirm that information."

"Sorry, I'll be good. Finish telling me then," Harry grinned. The mood in the tent had lightened considerably, and he knew it was in part because he'd been able to deduce so quickly that there was no blame to be laid on anyone's shoulders, including his. He was sure that there was a reason he'd not detected the other layers of wards, and whatever that reason, blame would play no part in it.

"Yes, there was a second and third set of wards below the first. The third set were the controlling wards, and they were masked by the second, which were masked by the first. Disabling the first layer made the second layer jump to active footing, and that is where our problems began," Ray summed up the warding for Harry, who nodded to show that he understood.

"The wards were set to begin a cascade of magical defences that would quite literally rip the person attacking them limb from limb," Trinket took up the tale again. Harry noted that his gruff voice now held a trace of something else; "As I was the leading caster at the time, it attempted to take my head off my shoulders in the first few seconds, but you stepped forward and took the blow instead. How you remained on your feet after that, let alone accomplished what you did…" he trailed off, shaking his head. Harry raised his eyebrows patiently, and waited for them to get on with it.

"You shunted me into an alcove further up the corridor and erected a shield barrier across it to protect me, simultaneously erecting shields at each end of the corridor," Trinket revealed, and Harry nodded to show he understood, "The shields were battle quality, and we were unable to break them to get to you."

"What did I do once the shields were up?" Harry asked unsurprised to hear that the battle shields the Trio had worked on so many years ago had snapped into place the moment his instincts took over. They had been hard won, and deeply ingrained by the time the last battle occurred. As his job was more than a little dangerous, those instincts had been sharpened and refined over the years, not dulled at all.

"You disabled the second and third layer," Elaine said it simply, "Your scar burst when the second layer went down, and the third layer tore your left arm almost completely off, but you took them down hard, and then you passed out. The shields stayed up though. None of us can figure out how that happened."

"I didn't pass out, then," Harry shrugged his good shoulder, "The shields would have dissolved, or at the very least weakened enough for you to free yourselves if I had."

His team were quiet for a moment, thinking about the implications of that statement. He knew from experience that as long as he was conscious the battle shields would stay up, and they had discovered the hard way that even if he fainted they stayed up. Harry wasn't sure why that was, though there was someone had told him he was a stubborn pain in the faculties backside often enough for him to have a fair idea.

"Because they were tainted by the wards you'd destroyed, the shields prevented me from getting a fix on your vital signs," Armando shrugged, "At the time we thought you were dead, but looking back I can see that there was no way those shields would have stayed up."

"I'm not that strong," Harry agreed with a laugh. His team smiled and the mood lightened. The fact that he was there to listen to the debriefing was proof enough that no lasting harm had been done.

"You moved after a few minutes, but you weren't responding to us at all, and we were making enough noise to wake the dead," Armando shook his head, "Somehow you got _back_ up and then... well, the newly revealed door fascinated you for a few seconds, then you pulled out your watch and dropped the shields."

"Oh," Harry realised what he'd been thinking, but decided _not_ to share with his team that he'd decided it was time to knock off work and go home. Better to leave that little mystery unsolved, or at least leave their theories unconfirmed, "So what was in the chamber?"

"Gold, gems, precious metals, rare potions ingredients," Ray listed it off easily, "If you hadn't almost been killed, boss; I'd say this tomb was the better of the three you'd been to."

"This guy was much richer than the other two, hence the ability to ensure a living guardian for his tomb as well as the Soul Gem," Harry agreed, "Were there any artefacts at all?"

"No," Francesca sighed her disappointment, "But we did find the final panel needed to start looking for the fourth tomb."

The panels of clues had been scattered around the walls and chambers of this particular tomb, and Harry had worried that they wouldn't be able to find enough information to locate their next site with any accuracy. He didn't want to run any risks when it came to freeing the Soul Gems.

"Good to know," Harry smiled, "If you can talk Armando into it, I'd like to see the data you've collected, on the layers of wards as well as the fourth location."

"We can do that," Ray said, a faintly menacing tone to his voice. Armando shrugged, clearly not worried and Harry grinned again.

"Potter," Argent spoke up for the first time, and he jumped, and then winced in pain when various points on his body protested vehemently against the sudden movement.

"You have saved my mate from certain death," Argent continued, her voice low and resolute, "I am in your debt. A life for a life, I recognise your mastery."

Harry paled even further and slumped back into his pillows. Not another one!

0o0o0o0

_**Extract from 'Harry Potter: The Man behind the Legend. An Unofficial Biography'**_

…_Coming as they did at such a high cost, it was fitting that the contents of the hidden chamber were by far the most profitable for Harry Potter and his team. In terms of raw materials, this tomb yielded the highest net worth, and enabled Harry Potter to go forward with his plans for the fledgling Tent City; though it is common knowledge that Harry Potter considered the needs and advice of his team before any decision was finalised. The inclusion of other Goblins in that plan may have come as a surprise to those who didn't know the man, but it was typical of the Master Wardsman to consider ability and knowledge over race and social standing. To this day, Tent City operates on a policy of equality unparalleled in any other location._

_Of course, it was the events at the Fourth Tomb that had such a profound impact on the recognition given to the fledgling City, and to Harry Potter's sovereignty over it…_

0o0o0o0


	8. Chapter 8

0o0o0o0

0o0o0o0

**FOURTH TOMB**

0o0o0o0

Armando's snickers made Harry roll his eyes, but he didn't complain. He was well aware that he looked rather odd, limping across the clearing with the support of a cane, one arm still in a sling, a small Turkish carpet floating behind him rimmed with large balustrade pillows. He still couldn't lift his children, and walking anywhere took all his concentration at the moment, so Trinket had presented him with the carpet and pillows, smirking all the while. The children rode on the carpet, the pillows stopped them from rolling off, and Harry could once again take time to play with his babies.

May and Davy loved it, sitting up and clapping their hands, waving to people as they floated past. Beth was far too young to notice anything other than the sky floating past her, though she joined in with her sibling's laughter when she was awake. The damage to his arm and leg was extensive, and the scars would ring the limbs in question in a wavering line, an indicator of how close he'd come to losing them both.

Armando was confident that he'd heal completely, and Harry was also fairly sure that he'd come good in the end. He'd always had a sense for which injuries would need babying and which would heal cleanly. Despite their severity, these two injuries would not bother him once they healed. All he needed was time to recover.

Hagrid was due today, horrified by the elves reports from the site. The half giant had been unable to get away earlier, as he'd been working on his thesis on Fire Wyrms. Once he'd graduated, the bug had bitten Hagrid, and the half giant was pursuing a formal Mastery in Magizoology, with the proud support of the dangerous genus _Potter Familias_. Harry thought it was about time Hagrid got public recognition of his abilities, and even went so far as to offer the man a scholarship. Hagrid had used the support to set up the Preserve, and was even now in nominal charge of it. From what Harry heard, the field of Magizoology was just as competitive as Curse Breaking, and Hagrid's thesis was waited for with bated breaths. No one else had his level of access to the long lost beasts.

The purpose for Hagrid's visit was twofold: he was firstly there to see Harry and the children, and to 'help out' as the man had said gruffly in his letter, and secondly he wanted to check up on the Preserve again. The Fire Wyrms were happiest when left alone, which was how they'd set up the conditions of the Preserve, but someone had to come out and check now and then, and Hagrid wanted to do that personally the first few times.

"Master Harry," Dobby popped out from the tent, and Harry turned to look as Hagrid stepped out from behind the elf, Fang a close second dragging the tent that Hagrid had bought to live in when he came out to the Preserve. The boarhound barked happily upon seeing him, but the tent prevented him from running over and knocking Harry down, something that Harry was grateful for.

"Hagrid!" Harry beamed and limped forward, grunting happily when Hagrid wrapped him in a comprehensive hug. On the carpet, Davy and May were calling to their uncle, and even Beth was burbling in happy sympathy.

"Harry yer look terrible," Hagrid stepped back, steadying him carefully, "I'm gonna be havin' words wit' yer team at this rate!"

"Leave them be, Hagrid, it wasn't their fault. There was no way for us to detect the trap, and if it had been anyone other than me, they'd have died," Harry said firmly, "And besides, I'm fine. It's a bit uncomfortable at the moment, but I'll be fine soon enough, and ready to finish up here before heading to the next site."

Fang had reached them by that point and was snuffling Harry's hand and butting against his good leg. Harry reached down to scratch the boar hound in the 'good spot' while Hagrid went to say hello to his nephew and nieces, kissing and hugging the older two before scooping up Beth, whom he'd yet to meet.

"She's beautiful, Harry," Hagrid beamed, and Beth waved her arms in hello to the new person. She was much more placid than Davy and May had been at that age, sleeping and eating like a dream child. Harry could only hope that the last two babies would be the same; a guilty thought, because he did love his children and there wasn't a thing that he'd change about them at all.

"She is," Harry agreed; though he still couldn't see what the women in the team saw in a new born, as they aged his babies had grown into their looks, "She's a good girl for me, to."

"Goo' gir'," May insisted and Harry chuckled, reaching out to rub her back.

"May's a good girl too, and Davy's a good boy," he assured his children, smiling at their smiles.

"Potter!" Trinket called, and Harry turned towards the trailhead. Most of the team were in the tomb at the moment. He'd collected his children early from the Kowalski's so that they could have some time with Hagrid. Trinket didn't sound worried or urgent, so Harry wasn't too concerned by this early return.

"Hallo Trinket," Hagrid greeted the Goblin, bending himself almost in half to shake the other beings hand. Trinket smiled, showing no teeth, which meant he was particularly pleased to see the other man.

"Hagrid, good to see you. Come to make sure Potter knuckles under and gets some rest?" Trinket dropped him in it shamelessly, and Harry sighed like a man much put upon by life. Hagrid shot him a Look and then agreed that someone had to make sure he did what he was told.

"Look you two…" Harry trailed off at the looks he was getting and shook his head, "Never mind. Was there something you needed, Trinket?"

"I wanted to know when you were expecting your guest. Argent is determined to provide a meal for the two of you," Trinket made a show of pulling out his watch and checking it. Harry snickered and shook his head. Argent limited the amount of contact that she had with Harry as much as she could. Trinket had confided to Harry that his mate was worried that he would punish her for her former behaviour. They both knew that would never have happened, but Harry had been advised to leave the whole matter to Trinket.

"Will you two be joining us?" he asked, "I won't permit it unless you join us. Dobby and Winky are more than capable of taking care of us if we need it."

"Which we don't," Hagrid rumbled, rocking on the spot with Beth still in his arms. She had a hand fisted in his wild beard, something that all of Harry's children did, and something that their father had done on one or two occasions during his recovery, "We're more than capable o' knockin' up a meal ourselves."

"I'll pass that on," Trinket's voice was dry and Harry nodded, renewing his grip on his cane. Trinket gave Hagrid a significant look and walked off to his tent. Hagrid pulled his wand from his pocket and waved it at Fang. The tent detached itself and then pitched itself next to Harry's. Fang started herding the floating carpet towards Harry's tent and Harry followed along, amused.

"Really, I am fine, Hagrid," he told the half giant, settling into the wide armchair opposite the couch and watching Davy and May tumble off the carpet and head for the toy corner. Hagrid sat down on the couch with Beth, and Fang collapsed at Harry's feet with a sigh.

They spent an hour discussing trivialities, Harry caught Hagrid up on the news of the team, and Hagrid caught Harry up on the latest from Beaubaxton's and Minerva. As much as he'd have liked to write directly to his former teacher, Harry didn't want to turn the Ministries attention to her. Fang and Madge were discussed, the young monkey coming to perch on the arm of Harry's chair when she heard her name mentioned. Dobby and Winky had also come to sit with them, sharing the ottoman.

"Pretty!" May announced from her place on the floor, "Dad! Pretty!"

Hagrid looked fairly alarmed and Harry twisted carefully in the armchair to see his daughter petting a brightly coloured snake that was draped across her knees as she sat on the floor.

"Is that your parent, eggling?" the snake hissed, and Harry got up carefully as May agreed that Harry was her Dad.

"I have never spoken to one of your kind," the snake watched Harry approach, "Tell him not to hurt me, and I will not hurt you."

"I won't hurt you," Harry replied easily, "I wanted to meet the one that has come to speak with my eggling."

"You speak too?" the snake seemed shocked, "And these others?"

"The other eggling does," Harry waved a hand at Davy who had wandered over for a look at the snake as well, "No one else does."

"This is a strange cave," the snake looked around, and Harry explained that they lived here, moving the 'cave' from place to place.

"May I travel with you, speaker?" the snake looked at May, who was still petting him; "Your eggling is kind and smells good. I will protect her."

Harry hesitated for a minute, and then murmured a wandless spell. The snake was mildly magical which would explain why it had come into the tent when just about every other creature would avoid the place. There had to be some reason behind it deciding out of the blue to attach itself to May and Harry was leery of discounting such occurrences just because he didn't understand them at the time.

"Pretty can stay with me," May agreed, "I'm May and that's Davy and Dad."

"You can stay," Harry agreed, not wanting to deal with a tantrum on May's part right now, and hoping he could figure out why the snake had come. At least he knew it wasn't under outside influence – that would have shown up in the spell, "But be warned, we leave this place soon. If you wish to stay you may do so."

"Thank you," the snake curled into a coil beside May, who continued to pet him. Harry sighed and went back to his chair, explaining to Hagrid what had just happened. It seemed that his children were fated to collect pets in unusual circumstances.

0o0o0o0

"Potter, a word," the rough voice broke into his musings, and Harry looked up from the documents he was reviewing for Ray. There was a surprising amount of paperwork involved when you were in charge, which was something Harry didn't think he'd ever get used to.

"Gripclaw, Gravel, please have a seat," he smiled without teeth at the interruption and folded his hands while they settled into chairs opposite him.

"The new site," Gripclaw got straight down to business, "It's near some very promising deposits of stone. I have permission to quarry it, and I need to know how long you expect us to remain at the site."

"We're averaging a year per tomb," Harry replied, "Plus or minus a month. The team will also be leaving for a month half way through that, but you are not required to leave with us if that doesn't suit."

"We're not welcome at the birth of your child?" Gravel snapped, and Harry held a hand up sharply.

"You are welcome," he snorted, "I didn't think you'd be interested in spending a month doing nothing while my team and I research and publish. I'm very aware that your income is independent of the teams, and that you may wish to travel ahead of us, or leave after we have, depending on your work load and situation. I won't be imposing the team's schedule on you."

"Then if we wanted to travel ahead now, you would not object?" Gripclaw shot his spouse a strong look, and Harry had a feeling that they'd be having words later. Harry rifled through the documents in front of him and produced a map that showed where his team felt the next site would be.

"We're going to be in this area," he turned the map so that Gripclaw could see it, "Where is your intended quarry?"

"Here," Gripclaw tapped his long finger on the spot, and Harry nodded. He scanned the map and then shrugged.

"You can certainly travel ahead now," he agreed, "I am not sure where we will make the final camp though. This is only a general area – I would need to be there to discover where the tomb might be."

"How long would it take you to locate this tomb?" Gripclaw asked, and Harry mused for a moment. He was able to feel the presence of the Soul Gems, an awareness that increased with each site. He could probably use that awareness as a sort of divining rod to help him locate an approximate place.

"I could probably find the immediate area fairly quickly. The exact location would require a week or so. A general location would let me set up a camp site though."

"Then travel ahead with us," Gripclaw leaned back, "You can share our tent and we will camp in the general location. If we leave soon I can turn a better profit."

Harry thought it over for a moment, and then nodded. He'd be able to apparate from this site to the other in an emergency, and the team was almost finished here anyway. They would be ready for the handover in two weeks, so him going off for a day or so would be no great hardship to them.

"Very well," he sat back, "I will be ready to leave tomorrow if that suits you?"

Gripclaw nodded and Gravel scowled at him before following her spouse back to their tent. Harry shook his head and went to inform his assistant and his household.

0o0o0o0

"Trinket," Harry's face was grim as he apparated from Gripclaw's tent to Trinket's "How are you on battle spells?"

"Depends on what I'm battling," Trinket replied, looking up from the book he was reading. The Goblin's personal wards were forbidden to block his 'owner' and although Harry usually made a point of treating Trinket's tent as if it were an inviolate refuge, he didn't have time for such protocols now. Argent appeared from another room, but Harry didn't have the time to spare on niceties either.

"Man or beast?" Trinket asked, putting his book down and waving Harry to his seat.

"Man," Harry snorted, "Not that he deserves that title. Wizard, then."

"You've just gotten back from scouting the new site?" Argent asked, "Have you left my brother and his spouse there?"

"They are well concealed," Harry waved her concerns off, "Gripclaw insisted on remaining to monitor the situation. Someone has managed to locate the Fourth Tomb of Anacosta, probably using the leakage of the Soul Gem to pinpoint the general area."

"This one is leaking as badly as the first?" Trinket sounded surprised, "And can you identify the other Wizard?"

"Not as badly, which is a blessing. He hasn't been able to pinpoint it, and he doesn't have our expertise. You would know him by the name of Gustav, though he also favours the title Tomb Raider – he has a team of five with him, and…" Harry looked away, sickened by the memory, "And he has two children, the age of Davy and May."

"He is poaching your site?" Argent's ill advised comment sparked Harry's temper, something he rarely let fly in the aftermath of the final battle. His personal powers were too strong to risk losing control like that, but Argent was able to push his buttons without even realising she was doing it.

"Poaching?" Harry roared, surging to his feet, "Is that what you think has … he is using the eldest child, whom he calls Canary as a curse detector by thrusting him into danger and seeing what happens. The youngest is called Spare, and is levitated behind Canary as a back up. If he does manage to find the tomb in this hit and miss fashion he will destroy the Soul Gem in order to keep the diamond, and you think I am concerned that he will find wealth instead of us?"

Argent quailed away from him, and Harry became aware that any loose objects in the room were rattling in their places, waiting to explode. He dragged in a shaking series of deep breaths and looked away from the Goblin fisting his hands in an effort to keep control.

"Canary? Your pardon, Potter, but I do not understand the significance of the name," Trinket said gently, and Harry grit his teeth. Trinket was trying to divert him, and it would work, but only because he was so appalled by the knowledge.

"Muggle miners used to use canaries – yellow song birds – in cages to detect gas pockets in deep mine shafts. They didn't have any other way to detect the lethal gases, so when the canary died, they knew to get out," Harry felt ill just thinking about it. The deliberate cruelty of the man, whom the boy called master, was beyond his understanding. From the physical traits both children were Gustav's biologically, but Harry couldn't bear to grace him with the title of father.

"Gripclaw believes that the three of us can take Gustav and his team apart," Harry informed Trinket, "Gravel has left to inform the authorities of the situation, at my request. However, I want those children out of his control. Every minute he has them is unacceptable."

"Very well," Trinket nodded, "I will change into the appropriate battle robes, and I suggest you do the same. I also suggest you get Welsh to make you some port key's for the hospital tent, and draw me a map of the area we will be battling in. When does Gripclaw expect us?"

"Forty minutes from now," Harry pulled his watch out, "I will be in the common tent."

He strode from the tent quickly, grimly determined that those children wouldn't have to spend another day in Gustav's clutches.

0o0o0o0

The team were not happy to hear that Harry was taking Trinket and Gripclaw into battle with him, and leaving them behind. It had not been up for discussion. Of them all, only Trinket had any training in such things, as all adolescent Goblin's were mandated to perform the Goblin equivalent of National Service.

Armando was left setting up his hospital tent for incoming casualties and two badly treated children, and Ray was left ranting that Harry should leave the situation to the professionals. In Harry's mind he was a professional, he'd certainly had enough experience in this sort of thing. It wouldn't be the first time he'd come across illegal activity near his site and acted on it.

Brightfeather was waiting for him outside Gripclaw's tent, and scratched his beak against Harry's battle robes. He'd replaced the set he'd worn to destroy Voldemort, as curse breakers sometimes came into contact with spells that meant the extra protection was needed. If he'd been wearing them the day he Trinket had gone after the treasure chamber his injuries would have been less severe.

"I have something for you," he told the hippogriff and pulled an amulet on a fine chain from his robes, "It will protect you from some spells. Not all mind, but some. I'd like you to wear it."

Brightfeather looked him over carefully and then sniffed delicately at the amulet before bowing his head so that Harry could fasten it around the great feathered neck. Harry smoothed it into place meticulously and stepped back, thanking the beast with a low bow. Brightfeather nibbled his hair affectionately and Harry straightened with a smile. Trinket and Gripclaw were already on their way to the vantage point that Harry had established of Gustav's camp, and Brightfeather limped along beside him as he followed them.

The last of the light was fading, but Harry could still see the small cluster of tents that had been set in a well-spaced scraggly line, completely unlike the set up of his own camp. All of _his_ team's entrances faced the middle of a protective circle with the communal area in the middle. It was much easier to defend, and much harder to infiltrate that way.

"He's put the children in his tent," Gripclaw pointed to one in the middle, "And he activated his wards."

The men in the camp below were drunk, or well on their way to it, and sat carousing around a large fire. They made good targets.

"Can we get the wards on his tent down?" Trinket asked, and Harry shrugged.

"I need a better look at them, wait here," he replied and slipped away into the undergrowth before anyone could reply. It wasn't hard to get a little closer to the camp, although what he was really doing was moving out of the influence of the Goblin's magic. He'd learned, almost another lifetime ago it seemed, a handy spell to see magic in play. He didn't use it while working as a curse breaker because he needed to be able to document and explain his findings to others. This spell, when cast on his glasses allowed him to see the moving energy of all the magic in his immediate area, which explained why he didn't use it in an uncleared tomb.

Traditionally, the spell was cast on the user's eyes, something that would eventually cause damage in the form of blindness or at least an inability to see anything other than the magical fields. Harry had found that casting it on his glasses didn't impact his eyesight at all, and he'd encouraged several others to carry spectacles with plain glass lenses to allow them to cast the spell on the objects instead of their own eyes. The spell was telling him all he needed to know about the men in the clearing and the wards on the tents. When he was sure he had seen enough he cancelled the spell, and slipped silently back to the two waiting Goblin's. Brightfeather greeted him with a twitch, but Gripclaw actually jumped in surprise before scowling at him.

"Can you take down the wards?" Trinket didn't waste time with pleasantries, and Harry nodded.

"It depends on how we do it," he replied, "If we're going for stealth I'd need at least a day…"

"He's that good?" Trinket sounded astonished and Harry snorted in contempt.

"He's that paranoid. He's layered ward after ward over the tent, designed to keep the children in and everyone else out. I'd need a full day to pick the wards apart gently. I wouldn't even need a full minute to tear straight through them. There would be a lot of noise and light when I did so; if we're trying for stealth it would blow our cover."

"Then we take them in a frontal attack," Gripclaw shrugged, "You get in, rip the wards, port key the children out, and we'll go in and capture the rest."

"You're not to kill anyone," Harry said firmly, "Is that understood? I won't have you arrested for murder. I want them to stand trial for what they're doing and what they've done."

"Understood," Gripclaw nodded reluctantly and Harry sighed, "Brightfeather, if you provide aerial support that would help. A few well-aimed rocks dropped from a great height would do a lot of damage to the other tents and the fire. The confusion would give Gripclaw and Trinket some cover as well."

Brightfeather agreed with a nod and Gripclaw offered to enchant several stones for the Hippogriff to carry, reducing their weight until they had been released. While the other two went off to organise that, Trinket and Harry discussed tactics and plans. Harry was adamant that they find a way to reduce the risks to the two Goblins, not wanting to tell a grieving spouse that her mate had died at his order.

"Ready," Gripclaw announced and Harry nodded. He slipped out of the vantage point again and headed for the middle tent, taking his time to get into place. Trinket was briefing his brother in law, and then they'd also have to get into position.

When the moon rose, there was an eerie whistling noise that made the drunken wizards shout in confusion. The fire exploded and Harry leapt forward, ignoring the shouts and screams and heading for his target. The wards hummed harshly at his first intrusion, but it wasn't difficult with this sort of set up to get a firm hold of them and tear them apart. A second eerie whistling noise obliterated a tent, and Harry glanced over at the fire, grimacing when he realised that two of the wizards there had caught light, probably because they'd spilled the alcohol they were drinking all over themselves.

He slipped into the tent and looked around quickly. The tent was filled with opulent rugs, fabrics and cushions, but he ignored the ostentatious display of wealth to head for the soft whimpering noise in the back. He found the children together, in a small cupboard and he clenched his jaw shut in anger before reaching out and plucking the little girl from the comfortless space.

"Don't hurt her! Don't hurt her please!" the little boy shrilled and Harry settled the baby in his arms comfortably, the movement practiced and smooth. She settled there as if she belonged, and cooed up at him softly.

"It's alright son," he said in a tender voice, the same tone he used on Davy when the little boy was unwell or upset, "I won't hurt her. I won't hurt you either."

"What do you want?" there was bravado in the little boy's tone, though his chin was wobbling in his elfin face. Red hair, long and unkempt fell into blue eyes, and Harry smiled gently. They were strongly alike, these two, and he wondered where their mother was, and how she could bear to have given them up.

"I want to take you both somewhere safe. To a good Healer who will check that you're ok, and to elves that will feed you both a good meal. There are other children there, just your age, and no one hurts them either."

"You'll take us away from… him?" the boy gasped, "He'll not be there?"

"You'll never see him again," Harry vowed, knowing that one way or another he'd find a way to keep that promise, "Can I send you to safety now?"

"They'll really give us something to eat?" the pitiful question almost made him cry, and he nodded, looping a port key around the girls wrist and sending her on her way. The little boy sobbed and stumbled into his outstretched arm, shaking and half tensed for a blow. Harry rubbed his back gently and looped the other port key around his wrist.

"The Healer is Armando," he told the little boy, "He'll take very good care of you, and I'll come as soon as I can, son. I promise."

Then he sent the boy on his way and drew his wand once more, stepping out into the chaotic night, grimly determined to keep his promise.

0o0o0o0

Dear Hagrid,

Well, it's all done now. Gustav didn't really have much to defend himself with when all was said and done. The wards on his tent were supposed to immolate the evidence, including the two children, but I'd destroyed them before any further harm could be done. He was wanted for enough international offences that they say he'll never see daylight as a free man again, and I'm glad for it.

The conviction helped us to move along the other legalities. His paternal rights were completely severed by the international courts, and the blood adoption went through without any opposition at all. Ray and Ben were outraged when it was discovered that the man had used the very same rite they had to bear his own children, using the same 'donor' for the other half of the ritual and then obliviating him once, and killing him the second time. I'll never understand how someone can carry a new life in them and then abuse that baby once it is born.

Luckily, the abuse was pretty much in the neglect and verbal range, nothing that I can't undo with a bit of time and patience. After all, I survived being locked in a cupboard and worked like a house elf. I'm sure that the newest members of the _Potter Familias_ herd will too. Already they are starting to open up a bit more, and Dobby and Winky have been tireless in their efforts to help me reassure and soothe the few episodes of fear we've seen since they were rescued.

Davy is very pleased to have a new brother near to his own age, and has already remarked that they have hair just like my mums. With their blue eyes and red hair, they blend right in, which sounds funny when you think the rest of my children have dark hair like me. My children have blue or green eyes, and I'm sure the two new additions will soon feel right at home.

That said, I'd like to address your attention to the photos of the two newest Potter's – James Remus and Lily Sirius. I know what you're thinking, Sirius is not a girl's name, but she has a spark in her eyes that reminds me of him, and she's not likely to use her new middle name anyway. Jim was very happy to know that he was being named for my dad, and his sister for my mum, I think it has made the adoption real to him. As you can see in the photos, he and Davy get along like a house on fire, and I've put him in Davy's room at my eldest boy's insistence. Beth and Lily are currently sharing with May who is happy to have them. I've given her room instructions to expand to fit them, though I have a feeling that Beth will have to go into a room by herself once she starts teething in earnest, to avoid waking the other girls with her fretting. May and Lily are mostly through that stage, thank Circe.

The rest of the photos comprise of various family groupings including one I've called 'nap time'. As you can see, they're all sacked out quite happily and Davy has taken a very protective interest in his new brother. Jim is a thumb sucker, but then again I did that when I was his age, it was very comforting. Madge and Pretty don't seem to be fazed by the sudden expansion of our family group, and Jim and Lily don't seem to mind that their new dad, brother and eldest sister are able to speak to snakes. I've caught Jim hissing once or twice to Davy, who dissolves into fits of laughter. I think he's trying to teach Parseltongue to his brother with about as much success as I had with Frannie.

With the trial and the adoption, we've been unable to devote our full attention to locating the fourth tomb. Now that everything is settled, the team and I are once again starting the process of searching for the Fourth Soul Gem. I'm glad that we have the luxury of time to do so, as there was evidence that Gustav was planning to destroy the soul and keep the gem. The thought that one of my children was threatened like that makes my skin crawl. And yes, I know that technically the Gem is not my child, but that's not the way my heart reacts to the threat, and I've always been overprotective.

It shouldn't take us long to find the fourth tomb, as the magical leakage is nearly as strong as it was with Davy's gem. Once we've found it, I'll go through the ritual at once, as otherwise we'll be very close to May's birthday. Ferdi has been expressing a wish for us to come and visit, and Armando doesn't mind what country we're in, as long as we're not on a mountainside in Peru, so we'll likely head to Spain for the delivery. I'll give you more information once we're closer to the due date, of course.

Well, it's another short letter, Hagrid, and I'll write you a longer one when I have a bit more time on my hands. I've suddenly got five children to care for, and Ray is joking that I'm raising my very own Quidditch team! The realisation that I'll have seven children at the end of all this instead of five is a heady one, and brings a certain family to mind – I've even got two redheads!

On that bittersweet note, I'll send all our love…

Harry, Davy, Jim, May, Lily and Beth (not to mention Dobby and Winky!) Oh, and Madge and Pretty…

0o0o0o0

"Potter, I have to know," Trinket sat back from the table and fixed Harry with a curious look, "You've never really explained to us why you are so adamant that the children all have different birthdays."

The children in question were currently marauding around the communal table in a noisy and complicated game of tag, the rules for which they had devised themselves. The ones too young to join in were snoozing in specially conjured cots or crawling in a small enclosure with a variety of soft objects to throw and squash. The remnants of the teams evening meal littered the table, and the adults were relaxing over their after dinner drinks.

"Oi! Unfair advantage!" Peter Welsh called as he ran past, scolding his younger sister for scooting under the table to get away from Davy, who was 'he'.

"It's not easy to explain," Harry sighed, but he knew that he'd make the effort. The team had been curious about his insistence ever since the first tomb and he didn't like to conceal things from them.

"I know that you're avoiding something, a date I think," Elaine muttered, and Harry nodded, unsurprised that she'd noticed. It was her job to notice and chart patterns, and his insistence about the dates would be easy enough to chart.

"Not long after I was born," Harry swirled the red wine in his glass, "There was a prophecy made. A child born as the seventh month dies, with an unknown power, would destroy a Dark Lord."

"I thought you fulfilled that Prophecy," Trinket frowned, "In fact I thought that it was the fulfilment of that prophecy that led to your exile."

"Trinket!" Frannie remonstrated but Harry was able to smile at the Italian woman, and shrug casually.

"I think I did fulfil the prophecy, and it did lead to my exile," he held up a hand for patience, "But the British Ministry for Magic has designated me as a Dark Lord as a result of that. Now, I'm sure that Voldemort is dead, and I'm sure that I'm not a Dark Lord. I'm not planning to take over Britain or Europe or the world for that matter, and you all know how I feel about Dark Magic."

"You spend your days disarming it," Barbara murmured, "Hard to miss that you disapprove."

Harry grinned and toasted her with his wine glass while Frannie filled Ray and the Kowalski's on the Dark Rite he'd also disrupted, not to mention several other actions taken to prevent powerful objects falling into unsafe hands.

"So what has this to do with the dates of your children's birth?" Trinket interrupted impatiently, and Harry chuckled. Once he'd started a line of inquiry, the Goblin didn't let it go until it had been exhausted.

"If I hadn't made us delay the ritual at the first tomb, Davy would have been born as the seventh month dies. If I had stuck to the six months pregnant, six months not schedule, then all of the children would have been born then. I'm sure that the prophecy was fulfilled, but can you imagine… five children born as the seventh month dies, and their father an accused Dark Lord? I don't ever want to have to think about my children being led to believe that they have to kill me…"

Trinket swore under his breath for several minutes and nodded his understanding, "Better not to tempt fate. I understand, Potter."

"Harry, you're not…"

Harry laughed and interrupted Elaine's earnest speech. He didn't need to be reassured or coddled, no matter how well meaning the person offering it was. He knew himself well enough to know that despite his great personal power levels, his ability to speak to snakes, and his exposure to the Dark Arts at the tender age of eighteen months, he was not a bad person. He had only ever killed in self-defence, and only because his attackers had sought him out. He had never successfully used a Dark Curse, no matter what the Ministry said of a grief stricken attempt at Crucio in its very own atrium. He was as capable of love as he was of hate, and he had no desire to see others suffer, or bow to his will. His exile had been one of political expediency, no matter what the buffoons at the Ministry had said. All that remained now was to tell his team all this. Fortunately, he had the perfect way to do so.

"Of course I'm not evil… not in the classical sense anyway."

There was a shocked silence for a minute and then the team burst into laughter so loud it even attracted the attention of their playing children.

0o0o0o0

_**Extract from 'Harry Potter: The Man behind the Legend. An Unofficial Biography'**_

… _Following the discovery of the fourth tomb and his subsequent fourth pregnancy, Harry Potter began to speculate further upon the rituals bound in the creation and setting of a Soul Gem. Though his private research has not been published to this day, it is widely suspected that Harry Potter knew a lot more about the process that he ever spoke of. It is certainly true that the fourth tomb showed his ability to remove the wards quickly and safely had taken a huge step forward in both skill and speed. Some have attributed this to his familiarity with Anacosta's work, which increased exponentially with each site. Many believe that it was the fourth tomb that confirmed a privately held theory._

_His battle and triumph over the self proclaimed Tomb Raider, Hans Gustav, led to the international law enforcement community granting certain legal courtesies to Harry Potter and several of his team. They are believed to be the first truly international Unspeakables, and it is true that from that day forward Harry Potter would disappear for a few days with little to no warning, sometimes returning to his anxious team with injuries that he did not care to explain. Gringott's Bank – his primary employer – certainly seemed to work in collusion with the international MLE, assigning Potter to sites in countries that had requested help with particular Dark Magic's. Any official records of his actions have of course been sealed._

_It was also during the survey period of the fourth tomb that the next significant steps were taken in enlarging the Tent City…_

0o0o0o0

"Boss?" Ray's voice broke into Harry's thoughts, and he turned to smile at the blonde man. Ray was looking a little worried, but he smiled once he saw he'd regained Harry's attention, "You're a little distracted today."

"Good thing that we're not working with anything volatile," Harry replied, and leaned back on the box he was sitting on, letting the cool stones behind him support him, and resting a hand on the small baby bump that was just beginning to show. He patted it gently, and Ray reached over to rub his shoulder.

"What's bugging you, boss? Is it about the children?"

"Yours or mine?" Harry grinned, and Ray beamed. Harry had cast the ritual for he and Ben last night, and his partner was once again expecting their child. Ben had wept when the ritual came to an end, happy grateful tears that he'd shed on Harry's shoulder. Ray had also looked at bit damp at the eyes, but he'd held himself together long enough to get his partner to let go and retire to their bedroom. Harry had envied them, but was determined not to ruin things with his own longings.

"Yours, of course," Ray shuffled his own box closer, ignoring the alcove and its tempting array of scrolls and boxes for the moment. He slid an arm around Harry's waist and pulled his boss into an unexpected hug.

"I noticed you needed one," the words growled gruffly in Harry's ear and he felt his eyes sting for a moment. He was glad that the rest of his team were working in the belly of the monkey shaped tomb, because he didn't want them to see him being so… hormonal.

"Thanks," he took a deep breath and Ray let him go, sensing that Harry had reached his limit for unsolicited hugs. He gave his assistant a pat on the knee and turned a little so they were almost facing.

"Did you ever wonder why Anacosta chose the children he did?" Harry replaced his hand on his little belly, rubbing it tenderly. Ray frowned, and then his face cleared.

"You think that he chose the children he did because they had something unusual about them, something that attracted his attention," Ray realised, and Harry nodded.

"Birth powers," Harry clarified, "And unusual physical features as well. All of my children have very dark blue or light green eyes, and I don't think that's due to interacting with my own seed. I think that their eyes are their original colour, which is unusual for this area."

"Ok," Ray nodded, "But what about the birth powers? Has Davy done something that makes you think…?"

"He talks to snakes, Ray," Harry interrupted in a dry voice, "He has done so literally from the cradle. So does May."

"So do you, boss, they probably inherited that from you," Ray pointed out reasonably, and Harry nodded.

"Which is why I wasn't so surprised," he agreed, "After all, if their dad does it why not them as well? You've heard us, we sit there and natter away together in Parseltongue; even before Pretty came on the scene I spoke to snakes on behalf of the team, and I detected the Basilisk much earlier than we would have because of this particular gift."

"But I thought that Beth didn't speak snake language," Ray frowned, "You said that she hadn't shown any sign of ability in that area."

"She can't speak it at all," Harry confirmed, "But this morning I heard Davy and Jim laughing and calling colours out. I thought it was a new game, and went to have a look at what they were doing. The boys have a mania at the moment for teaching the girls things that they learn with Damian during the day. Davy would hold up a block, call out its colour and Beth was changing her hair to match. Jim was nearly wetting himself laughing, and Davy thought it was a neat trick. He just beamed at me and said 'look dad, Beth knows her colours' as if it was perfectly normal for her to do that."

"Great googamooga," Ray shook his head, borrowing a mild swear word from Trinket, "She's a metamorphmagus. That's a birth power all right."

"And she didn't inherit it from me," Harry confirmed, "The only ability I have is to control my hair length, something that I learned to unconsciously do when I was small."

"Wow," Ray beamed at Harry, "You are so blessed!"

"I know," Harry chuckled, "It was all I could do not to streak through the camp boasting at the top of my lungs. It just makes me wonder what this child could do that attracted Anacosta's attention."

"Does it matter?" Ray asked, "I mean, sure, I'd be curious, but do you really care?"

"Of course not!" Harry shook his head, "I don't care what my children can or can't do, and you know that. Davy is reading already, Jim is struggling with it, May isn't interested in it, and Lily is beginning to take an interest. Do you see me pushing Jim and May to be more like their siblings? Lily and Jim are perfectly normal Wizardly children; they don't seem to have any weird and wonderful talents at all. That doesn't make them any less loved!"

"I know, I'm sorry, that came out wrong," Ray pulled him into another hug, this time even rubbing his back; "I didn't mean that. I meant… do you have a particular talent you'd like them to have? No… that's not right either…"

Harry chuckled and patted his assistant on the chest before pushing back. Ray was not always the most articulate member of the team, and this got worse if he'd thought he'd upset you and was trying to talk himself out of trouble.

"It's ok, I understand," Harry reassured him, "And I don't have any particular wishes on that front."

"As long as they're healthy, right? Just like me and Ben. We don't care if it's a boy, girl, whatever. As long as it's healthy and grows up right – which is our job at the end of the day."

"Yeah," Harry smiled, "I originally thought that curse breaking was the most challenging job I'd ever find. Now I've realised how wrong that was. Nothing beats parenting for sheer terror and adrenaline."

"Not to mention sleep deprivation, ulcers and early male pattern baldness," Ray agreed, "And I've only got one to worry about. Or I do at the moment."

"Well," Harry shrugged, turning back to the alcove, "It's too late to back out now. And if I had a chance to do this again I'd do the same thing."

"I hear that," Ray agreed and reopened his ledger to the correct page, "Ok, so there are four scrolls and three identically sized wooden boxes. What's next?"

0o0o0o0


	9. Chapter 9

0o0o0o0

0o0o0o0

It was funny what had become commonplace and vital in Harry's life since his exile. Letters from Hagrid, scolding from Dobby or Winky, or both of them in a tag team when he'd been particularly reckless in their opinion had become a lifeline to home. Having a small body snoozing on his chest at the end of the day, or a small arm wrapping around his thigh and a little voice calling him dad: they were all things that Harry couldn't live without.

"Yes son?" Harry looked down at his redheaded boy and smiled, "What's up?"

"Me?" Jim put his arms up and Harry swooped him up onto his chest. Jim didn't ask to be picked up often, though he was much less frightened of being cuddled. He was even able to spill or drop something without panicking, and could watch Lily make her own mistakes without rushing to protect her from adult retribution. His son had gained some needed weight and was 'growing like a weed' in Ben's words.

Little arms crept around his neck and a small head rested on his shoulder with a sigh. The belly Harry was sporting wasn't big enough to prevent him from picking up his children at the moment, but once he hit the backache stage he would have to cut back to emergencies only – like grazed knees and bumped heads.

"I thought I put you and Davy down for a nap," Harry rubbed the boys back and kissed messy red hair. Jim nodded, and Harry counted it as a victory that the boy hadn't flinched or cried at the statement, fearing imminent punishment. Their trust was something that they'd both had to work on, and Harry had tapped reserves of patience that he hadn't known he'd had.

He walked from the library where he'd been browsing for a book that Elaine had wanted to borrow, again, and settled them both on the couch, swinging his legs up with a soft grunt and arranging pillows to support his back, shoulders, and head comfortably. Jim was cuddled onto his chest, one of the boys' legs resting across the top of his belly gently.

"Have you had a bad dream, son?" Jim reacted best to such inquiries when Harry emphasised their relationship, and this afternoon was no different. They'd had to deal with a few nightmares, mainly from his time with Gustav, a few based on Jim's fear that Lily would be taken away from him, and one or two that Harry would take the rest of the children and leave him and Lily behind. Sometimes Harry didn't know the child had suffered a nightmare until he went in to wake his boys and found them sharing a bed, Davy cuddling his brother close.

"No, Dad," Jim mumbled, "I… you're getting big in the middle. Are you… sick?"

Harry blinked in shock. He hadn't considered discussing the new baby with Jim or Lily, and his own children were used to seeing him get big and then one day turn up skinny again with a new baby in his arms. He counted the difference in ages between Jim and Lily and realised that even if Jim had seen the pregnancy that had resulted in Lily, he hadn't been old enough to understand what it meant.

"I'm not sick, Jimmy James," the nickname came from Frannie's eldest, Luigi, and Harry used it rarely, when comforting the boy, "I'm pregnant. Do you know that word?"

"No," Jim looked at his dad with a little frown, "Is it a good thing?"

"Oh yes," Harry smiled and kissed the solemn face, earning himself a little smile. His mind was whirling, unsure of how to explain this to a three year old that was already apprehensive.

"Well, you know that you have lots of sisters and a brother," he began, and Jim smiled happily, nodding affirmative, clearly happy to have such a big family, "When I start getting big in the middle like this, it means that eventually a new brother or sister will be joining us."

"Where is it now? And why is it making you big in the middle?" Jim looked around the tent as if Harry was hiding the new brother or sister somewhere, possibly in a drawer, "And is it going to be a brother or a sister? Don't you know?"

"I think it's a brother, but we won't really know for a while," Harry was grateful that the morning sickness was already over, and hadn't been noticed by the children this time. A few days worth of early morning nausea had been all he'd suffered, and as he'd had little more than that with Davy, and a lot more with the girls, he felt it safe to guess that this time he was having a son. His team agreed with him; they were still in the habit of speculating on his pregnancies.

"A new brother? I'd like that," Jim smiled, "But where is he?"

"He's still growing," Harry reached down and moved Jim's leg off the belly, then slid his son down his chest so that Jim could put his hands on the belly for himself.

"He's growing in you?" Jim looked up, awe on his face, "He's right here now?"

"Yup," Harry smiled and Jim rubbed his hands on the belly carefully, glancing at his dad to check that it was ok for him to do so. Davy and May both patted the belly when he hugged them hello, and Lily had copied her big sister. Beth was still too young to really notice the belly, let alone wonder about it, though she did pat it when he was holding her in his lap.

"Hello," Jim pressed his face to the belly, talking to the new baby, "I'm Jim. When will he come out to play?"

"In about three months," Harry chuckled, "He's not ready to play just yet. And he'll be very small when he comes out, so he might not be too good at playing until he grows some more."

"Like Beth," Jim nodded, "She doesn't talk really yet."

"No, but she's much bigger than when she was growing inside me," Harry agreed, and Jim yawned, crawling carefully back up to lie on Harry's chest, making sure not to kick his new brother. Harry collected him in close and rubbed his back. The little body slowly relaxed, getting heavier and boneless as sleep crept up on him.

"You're really cool, dad," Jim mumbled, "I'm glad I live with you now."

"So am I, Jim," Harry kissed red hair, "So am I."

0o0o0o0

"Harry!" his former assistant threw his arms out in greeting, the ruffles of lace on his cuffs flaring with the gesture, "Hello! Look at you!"

"Hello, Ferdi," Harry smiled and let himself be hugged. The flamboyant man was brightly dressed and elegantly coiffed, and Juanita hovered in the background, done up in a style very similar to her husband. Ferdi had offered to take the team into his home, but Ray had rented a villa for them all on Harry's instructions. They were getting to be too many people to adequately manage in someone else's home and he didn't want to swamp his former assistant with children.

The rented garden was large enough that they could put all of the tents up in it, and the attached house would allow everyone to share their meals and leisure time together. There was another conference that Harry and the team needed to attend, and Harry was presenting a book there. Elaine and Harding were also presenting a publication, and Francesca was in negotiations with a publisher for her third book. The time spent in 'civilisation' would be used by them all to get the legalities and contractual negotiations completed.

Gripclaw was taking the opportunity to secure some Spanish marble for his business, well pleased at the team's decision to relocate here for a month, and Ben had finally managed to pin down the Herbologist that he wanted to join them. Gripclaw also wanted to expand the number of non-curse breakers in the 'village' as Harry was coming to think of it, and was speaking to someone who practiced the art of wood masonry, an apparent contradiction in terms.

"Ferdi, you remember Davy," Harry's eldest trotted over upon hearing his name and smiled up at the other man curiously. Ferdi gasped and then threw himself to his knees, holding out his arms.

"Davy!" he looked up at Harry, "He's grown! Oh, where is May?"

"She's in the pool with Jim and Lily and all the others," Davy said and shook one of Ferdi's out flung hands, "Hullo."

Ferdi laughed and pulled the little boy into a hug, before letting go and sitting back. Juanita came forward and said her own hello's to his son, to which Davy replied quite politely.

"Jim and Lily? Are they…" Ferdi looked curious. He'd kept in touch with them all by letters, and Harry was thinking of establishing a group mailbox to be kept in the communal tent, giving smaller charmed boxes to friends and colleagues of the 'village'.

"Yup," Harry broke in, not wanting to hear his son and daughter described as adopted. He may not have had anything to do with their conception, but they were his now and he made no distinctions between them and the rest of his family. At least no major ones – all of his children had their differences and reacted best to different handling.

"Dad, I need to ask you a question," Davy looked up at him as Ferdi got up, and Harry smiled. His eldest had gotten into the habit of acting as advocate for his brother and sisters. If the children wanted something, it was usually Davy that came to ask. Harry usually told his son to go get the one that wanted whatever it was so they could ask for themselves, but he didn't really mind.

"What do you want to ask?" Harry reached behind to rub his aching back and Davy bit a worried lip.

"Well, we all wanted to know if we could go to the beach," Davy stepped forward and rubbed Harry's back too, "But if you're too tired…"

"Davy," Harry smiled and shook his head, "I'm not too tired, you don't have to worry about me."

"But your back hurts," Davy protested, his little lip wobbling, "And you were mad with me this morning."

Harry sighed, and beckoned his son to join him on the couch. He'd been angry because he'd found his son climbing over the roof of the villa in pursuit of Madge. Climbing trees was one thing, scaling buildings was another, and here there was no undergrowth or leaf litter to cushion his son if he fell. In addition, Davy had snuck out of the tent, something he wasn't allowed to do even when they were in camp and Harry knew the wards would protect him. Winky had been quite anxious when she'd woken Harry to alert him to the problem.

"You were on the roof, and out of bounds," Harry reminded his son, "And your consequence was that you couldn't go swimming today with the others. I was mad at you because I was worried that you'd have an accident. I still love you very much, and I always will. As for my back hurting, that's because your new baby brother is so heavy at the moment."

"Then maybe he should come out now," Davy put his hand on the baby, and leaned over, speaking to Harry's belly. Jim had started that little quirk, and Harry didn't mind it, "Come out baby, you're hurting dads back!"

"He's not ready to come out yet," Harry couldn't quite contain his chuckles, and Ferdi and Juanita were also laughing, "He'll be ready in another month. Now, someone wanted to go to the beach, yes? Well, let me see what I can organise for tomorrow. I need to find out if there are Wizard ones around, because I can't go to a Muggle beach looking like this."

"Ok," Davy smiled, "Are we all going? The whole village of kids or just our herd?"

"You've been spending too much time with Uncle Hagrid. I'll make some plans, ok? It will be a surprise," Harry promised and Davy beamed, knelt up to kiss him and trotted off in the direction of the pool, where Elaine and Harding were supervising the 'whole village'.

"He's so beautiful, Harry," Juanita sighed, "Such a dear and loving boy."

"I've been very lucky that all of them are fairly good natured. Even the terrible twos have been bearable with them," Harry agreed, "So, can you recommend a beach?"

"Oh yes, there's a lovely one not far from here," Juanita sat prettily on an armchair and Ferdi arranged himself on its arm, one hand trailing delicately on the back of the chair. Harry smiled at the posed couple and settled back cautiously on the overstuffed couch to get directions and advice.

0o0o0o0

Ray had been nearly incoherent with laughter when he'd told Harry about overhearing some Muggles discuss the conference attendees. Apparently, to the uninitiated, they looked like 'a bunch of role playing fanatics – with accessories to match'. Harry had to admit that was an apt explanation; there were plenty of cloaked and robed people wandering about, and one or two Goblins to boot.

"Potter," his name being called had Harry turning carefully, and he smiled when he recognised the fussily dressed person heading his way.

"Cleaver!" he exchanged bows as was proper, though his wasn't as deep as usual. The belly was once again large enough to restrict every single movement and comfort, though as he was probably carrying a boy he wasn't too badly off. Harry didn't know why it was that the girls had given him so much trouble, but he was grateful not to have to deal with it this time around.

Cleaver had been the Goblin that found him in France, minutes after he'd bonded with Dobby and Winky, and Cleaver had been the Goblin that had insisted on overseeing his apprenticeship during its initial stages. The two of them had developed a good working relationship together, and they had kept in touch via annual letters.

"I hope your Heir is thriving," Harry said as he straightened and curved a hand over his belly comfortably. Cleaver had been planning his son's Naming Ceremony when Harry had left France – the ceremony presented the new child to its Clan, which gave them protection should something happen to its parents.

"He is, though he favours his mothers craft more than mine. Fortunately his sister appears to favour the curse breaking guild," Cleaver shrugged, and Harry grinned. Cleaver's wife was an accountant for Gringott's, "And how fares your Heir?"

"He is very well, thank you," Harry refrained from pulling out photos, "And the rest are coming along apace."

"I hope you're not expecting to deliver in the back room again, Potter," Cleaver gestured to the Belly and Harry laughed. Several people turned to look at the source of hilarity and then politely looked away again. Frannie had very gleefully told Harry that she'd overheard several people refer to him and his team in tones of awe and wonder. Harry knew they had a good reputation, the few times that they contacted the Curse Breakers Guild or the Master Wardsmen, they had been given gold star service with very little fuss or bother.

"I'm still a good two weeks away from that," he promised, "And my Healer has placed several charms to alert him should something happen now."

"Never the less," Cleaver clicked his fingers and two stone chairs appeared. Harry sat on one gratefully, his fingers running over the polished stone.

"I am here for more than social niceties," Cleaver finally got to the point that Harry had been well aware of, "I have a request on my desk from several guilds that feel it would be beneficial to some of their members to have… movable headquarters."

"And the mobility is important because…" Harry frowned, not wanting to be involved in anything illegal. He was very picky about who joined the 'village' though if Cleaver talked him into this they'd probably end up qualifying as a 'town'.

"Their work is subject to industrial espionage. It would be much easier to secure their work properly if their location was… fluid," Cleaver hedged, "And your team do move from location to location."

"Why haven't they approached me directly?" Harry frowned, "At the very least a preliminary courtesy letter via my assistant seems to be called for."

"None of these Guilds currently have an affiliation with members of your team. I am well aware that the few non curse breakers living among you are affiliated by blood or marriage," Cleaver shrugged, "And they contacted me because they knew that we were at least well acquainted."

"Which Guilds?" Harry was curious, and then grimaced, looking around at the throngs of people. What had been a fascinating blend of fabrics and accents was now an intrusion on a discussion that should be held in more private circumstances, "Perhaps we should find a more discreet location for this discussion?"

"This way," Cleaver sprung up lightly, and Harry heaved himself to his feet to follow, aware that the chairs popped out of existence as they walked away. Ray appeared out of the crowd and Harry beckoned him to come along with a wave of his hand. His assistant was there in a flash looking worried and linking his arm in Harry's.

"You ok, boss?" Ray asked, and Harry squeezed the arm he was linked to in reassurance.

"Cleaver has a question for us, and I'll be needing your memory and expertise," Harry replied, knowing full well that the closer he got to delivery, the more forgetful he was. Armando said that was due to the hormones that he was dealing with, and then repeated it several times as if Harry had a short attention span as well. Harry had not been best pleased by the joke.

Once in the small room that Cleaver had evidently reserved, Harry erected an effective set of privacy wards and settled into the better-padded armchairs on offer. Ray settled into one as well, and listened as Harry gave him a quick rundown of the facts that Cleaver had already given him.

"Which Guilds?" Ray asked in surprise, echoing Harry's question, and this time Cleaver was free to reply.

"The Charms Guild for starters – there are several researchers whose work is quite confidential, and the Honourable Association of Potion Masters as well. You've already offered surcease to the Wood Masons Guild, yes?" Cleaver waited for the nod and then continued, "Several of these Masters would like to bring their spouses or family with them, a precedent you've already established."

"Hmmm," Harry exchanged a long look with Ray, "I suppose we have. If we were to do this, and I'm not committing myself to it at this stage, there would have to be several points of commonality made very clear to those joining us. And I would also need to speak with my team. After all, Gringott's is our employer, but we have been very careful about the non curse breakers we have introduced to the camp."

"Naturally, those joining you would expect to conform to the Charter by which your existing community lives," Cleaver's words startled Harry, though he was able to conceal that. He hadn't thought about their living arrangements quite so formally, but he could see where others might. They didn't have a written Charter, but there were some things that were simply understood by everyone, and taken almost for granted. Those things would have to be explained to newcomers, and perhaps recording them would make that easier. This was also the first time that Gringott's had recognised that Harry was working with a community of people as much as a team, though Harry himself had long ago recognised that.

"When would they wish to join us?" Harry asked, "As I'm sure you're aware, we're about to finish with the fourth site, and I myself am under something of a deadline here. We'd need to speak to those involved and that is just not a realistic or convenient task at the moment."

"I can see that," Cleaver snorted, "And the Guilds themselves will need time to outfit their members and make internal arrangements. Perhaps the newcomers should aim to join you at your final site. That will give you a more realistic timeline to follow, than trying to integrate people at the eleventh hour."

"That would work," Harry nodded, aware that Ray was rapidly jotting notes down for him. This would all have to go through the team of course; he wasn't willing to commit to such a move without giving the rest a chance to have their say. After all, the camp was their home as much as his and he could never be so disrespectful as to forget it.

0o0o0o0

There was wet fur, orange and black, and mewling whines instead of the healthy cry of a baby. Harry's head was spinning, but that might have been because he was practically hyperventilating in panic. Tears ran unheeded down his face as he cradled the squirming bundle.

"Christopher," he sobbed, "Christopher Arthur Potter… please baby, please…"

"Harry," Armando was casting spells above the bundle on Harry's chest, looking as terrified as Harry himself felt. The green-eyed man had of course had the usual dreams that he would give birth to something that wasn't a baby – he'd dreamed that Beth was an alien once or twice – but he'd never imagined that this was possible.

"Harry, it's alright," Armando's voice was too shaken for Harry to believe him, "He's in there, I promise you. He's just…"

"A tiger," Harry hiccupped, his head swimming for a moment until he forced it to stop, "Oh Kit, please come out baby."

"He's an animagus, Harry," Armando gripped his shoulder tightly, "A natural one! He's in this form because he's stressed and frightened, and he won't come out until his dad calms down."

"Caro," Frannie hurried into the room, summoned by a panicked Elaine, and took one look at them all before climbing into the bed with him and wrapping them both in her arms, "Shhh, Harry caro, shush. It's alright, Harry."

He leaned tiredly against her, exhausted and worried and let her rock and soothe him as she had for her own babies. Francesca hadn't been with him for the delivery, as she'd been dealing with a bout of morning sickness and no one wanted to be thrown up on while giving birth.

Harry took a few shuddering breaths and Frannie cooed softly in his hair, petting him as they rocked, kissing his temple and generously offering her strength and support. Exhausted, he slumped against her soft curves as Elaine climbed in on the other side, helping him support Kit and shushing along with Frannie. She held a bottle for the tiger cub, and it accepted it cautiously, after shying a few times.

The tiger cub in his arms began to quiet and Harry petted it as gently as the women were petting him, letting some of the comfort that they were imparting bathe his son as well. Slowly his breathing eased back to normal and the tears stopped, as he processed what had happened and accepted it. He'd known that each of his children were chosen to power the Soul Gems because of a highly unusual talent, he just hadn't considered that Kit would be a natural born animagus, nor that his son would revert to his form during the birth.

There was a gentle shiver and a pop, and then Kit was in his human shape, and Harry very nearly burst back into tears of relief. There were a few wisps of black hair on the squashed head, mingled with bright auburn strands as well.

"Oh thank Circe," Armando muttered, but Harry couldn't spare his attention from his son. Kit blinked bright blue eyes at him, which would eventually shift towards his true eye colour and made a contented sound around the teat of the bottle.

"Hello Kit," Harry sighed, "There's a good boy."

He leaned his head against Elaine's and let his focus drift for a while, more exhausted than he'd ever been.

0o0o0o0

Harry got used to finding a tiger cub in the family cradle instead of his son. It seemed that sometimes when Kit slept he changed shape, without conscious direction. Stroking a velvet ear and calling his name would soon bring his son back to proper form, and Harry was no longer concerned that Kit would get stuck. His brothers and sisters didn't seem to mind either way, and Beth would sometimes colour her hair to match Kit's stripes.

Discussion with the team led them to extending an offer to several Guild members to join them at the Fifth Tomb. As a family they had sat down and agreed upon the contents of the 'Charter' as Ray liked to call it, including everything from contributions to the schooling and day care of their children, to the timing of the 'communal meals' that they had every second or third night.

At the Kowalski's request, he hired another tutor, as the age groups of the children needing lessons were rapidly posing too great a challenge for one teacher. It wasn't the number of students; it was the amount of attention needed to get new learners up to speed versus the amount of attention needed to extend the learners that had grasped the basics and were looking for further challenges. Harry reluctantly started the interview process and eventually hired a vivacious young woman with a good reference from a leading Spanish family. The wood mason had also agreed to join them, and the two newcomers were busy arranging their tents to meet their requirements. The Kowalski's had a separate tent that they used as a day care come school, but that would be given over solely to the day care side of things. A school tent had been ordered and Damian was quite excited by the idea of being a headmaster in his own right. Barbara had mentioned that she might need a human assistant as well as Blinky – the cousin that Winky had gone looking for – but there was no need for them to start looking for that yet. Harry had hopes that Barbara had someone in mind, which would spare him the interview process.

Ben and Ray had made a point of asking to speak to Harry privately today, and Harry had sent his children off to the beach under Armando and Frannie's supervision, choosing to spend the time simply cuddling with Kit. The scare he'd had at the delivery was fading, but Harry simply felt better with his youngest in his arms at the moment, and Kit was responding well to the extra attention, spending more and more time in human shape.

Ray and Ben found him lounging on a Victorian fainting couch, upholstered in violent electric blue velvet. The colour was awful, but the couch itself was comfortable, and inclined at just the right angle for his son to snuggle on his chest while Harry read aloud several of the conference extracts that the team had heard being delivered.

"Boss, you gotta stop reading this stuff to the kids," Ray ushered Ben solicitously into a comfortable armchair and then sat on the footstool belonging to it once his spouse was settled to his satisfaction, "Seriously, I'd like to keep my job a while longer."

"As if you don't read ridiculously advanced stories to Victoria," Ben snorted, and Ray rolled his eyes, turning to his swollen lover with a look of betrayed innocence.

"Those are works of fiction, Ben," Ray reminded the man, "And _you_ read professional articles out to her when you think I'm not looking."

Harry snickered into Kit's hair at the comment and Ben obviously decided to pursue the better part of valour, as he ignored Ray and changed the subject.

"We've managed to reach the final stages of negotiation with the Herbologist that I was speaking to you about," Ben smiled, "He seems eager to combine projects with me, and his wife is quite happy to tag along. They don't have any children, but when we mentioned that there were quite a few in camp they seemed interested."

"And have you explained about the employment conditions? And the moveable locations?" Harry asked, and Ben nodded.

"We're looking to produce a high altitude, high yield, low maintenance food crop, and Peru is the right place to do so," Ben smiled, "The fertiliser supplied by the Fire Wyrms has a rather unexpected beneficial side effect, and he wants to study it further."

"I'm sensing a 'but' here," Harry frowned a little, rubbing Kit's back in an absent minded fashion, "What is the problem?"

"This guy and his wife are from Britain, boss," Ray said softly, "We've told them that they will have to sign a very hefty confidentiality agreement, and Ben's added that he doesn't want to publish in the UK at all. They're fine with it, seems that they became ex-pats years and years ago, something to do with disagreeing with someone's politics. We haven't told them your name yet, we didn't want to …."

"Cloud the issue," Harry smiled his understanding, nodding in approval and watching his assistant slump in relief. They didn't want to deal with a spy, a fan or a rabid anti-Potter fanatic, so it was better that he stay out of things until the very end, "Do you have the paperwork here?"

He was a little curious who this person was, and wondered if he'd recognise the name. He'd met a lot of families in his time at Hogwarts and had gotten pretty good at making family connections. When he saw the names on the paper work he laughed, and gave it all back to Ray.

"Sign him up," he approved, "This guy shouldn't have any concerns at all. I knew him fairly well once."

"You're sure?" Ray asked nervously, "He and the missus are coming out to join us here for Ben's due date. So they'll meet Armando and Frannie and the kids pretty much straight away. The rest of you are going back next week, right?"

"Yes," Harry nodded, "I'm worried about leaving the site for too long, especially after it was nearly compromised by Gustav. We've got a lot of the cataloguing done already, but the final clues to the fifth tomb are proving to be elusive. I want them found and deciphered."

This might seem an odd thing to say when that only meant he would soon be pregnant again and he had a newborn baby snuggled on his chest, but Harry wanted to get the final pregnancy done with. As much as he loved his children, and even found the process of bearing them an interesting challenge, he was looking forward to knowing that the whole thing was over and that the Soul Gems were safe.

0o0o0o0

"Dad!" the call interrupted his diagramming of the latest friezes, and he looked up. May was grinning at him from the doorway, hanging off the blue velvet curtain with careless grace, "The new plant man 'n his missus are here!"

May couldn't say Herbologist yet, and her attempts were funny to the onlooker, frustrating to her. Ben and Ray had arrived with their son, whom they'd named Albert, only four days ago. Harry had been pleased to see them, and he and Ben had spent some time comparing babies, which made Frannie laugh herself into hiccups. The Vecchio's had travelled with them of course, and Ferdi had apparently been very sad to see them go. Harry had thought that there were times his former assistant had been on the verge of asking for his old job back, but nothing had come of it, and Harry hadn't pushed. He couldn't see the elegant and fashionable Juanita happy with living in a tent.

"Thanks, sweetheart," Harry put the diagram into the drawer and shut it, nudging several other drawers shut as well to lock his desk, "And where are your siblings?"

He'd been keeping the children at home the last two days as Barbara had a cold, which she'd passed on to Damian. He didn't want the older couple to be working while they recovered, and wasn't too keen on his children getting sick either, especially not when the team Healer was still in Spain. No one had been allowed in the tomb while Armando was away, but just being back on the site had helped Harry settle to the task of finding the fifth and last Tomb of Anacosta. The external friezes had been very interesting, and he'd been combing through them slowly, looking for clues.

Harry got out of his chair and walked towards his daughter, who put up her arms to be carried. He swung her up with a grin and she snuggled close, one hand tucked under his arm to clutch his t-shirt in the back.

"They're marauding," she replied, using the term that Harry did for the more rambunctious games the children liked to play. It was not uncommon to hear him ask the children to 'stop marauding through the tent/clearing/undergrowth and come to dinner/the bath/bedtime'. The other parents had also adopted the phrase as their own, which had made him snicker until he realised he'd picked up several of their phrases as well.

"Well, we'll leave them to it," Harry rubbed her back, trying to catalogue her health, "Did you not want to go marauding with them?"

May shook her head and put her face in his neck. She only ever snuggled like this when she was feeling unwell, and Harry resigned himself to a poorly daughter for a while. He'd get Armando to have a look at her after he introduced himself to the newest members of the 'village'. The wood mason and the new tutor wouldn't arrive for another week, as both had to work out their notice. Luckily, they'd be able to travel together, and Harry's team had already set their tents up for them.

He blinked as he stepped out into the bright sunshine, and smiled at the sight of the new couple setting up their tent and bickering lightly. Their brown and blonde hair shone in the sunlight, and their accents brought back memories of home so strongly for a moment it was almost as if they were still there. He walked across the large clearing slowly, enjoying the fact that he wouldn't be the only Brit in the area any longer, though it had never bothered him in the least.

"Hullo Nev, Luna," Harry beamed from a short distance away, "Welcome to Peru."

"Hallo Harry," Luna smiled dreamily at him, her features as familiar as ever. The only thing that had changed was her figure – she had grown into a very graceful woman, but still wore a necklace of butter beer corks.

"Harry!" Neville Longbottom gasped. The former Gryffindor dropped the corner of the tent he was holding and pulled Harry into a huge hug, gulping and shaking and muttering a thousand and one things.

"It's good to see you Nev," Harry laughed gently, "You're looking well."

His former housemate had also grown into his body, losing the puppy fat and gaining a short beard. He was brown as a nut from working outdoors with his plants and there was a gentle calm to him that Harry approved of. May squirmed a little in the hug, and Neville jumped back, looking at her in surprise.

"Harry, it's so good to see you, and I'm so glad you're ok and who is this?" the run on question made Harry chuckle and May smiled prettily at the new person who'd been hugging her dad.

"This is my eldest daughter, May;" Harry hitched her on his hip a little, "The rest of the herd are around here somewhere."

"You married?" Neville looked surprised and Harry shook his head. Something in his expression warned his former housemate not to ask too many questions, because Neville clearly bit his tongue. Ben and Ray knew that the job of filling Neville in was theirs, as Neville was going to see more of them than the rest of the team. He also didn't want to get into it with May on his hip – his children would know where they came from when they were old enough to understand it.

"It's a very long story," Harry sighed, "And Ben and Ray agreed that they will fill you in."

Youthful shouts interrupted him, and several children dashed into view. His children spotted him with the new people and peeled away to come and say hello when he beckoned them with a wave of the hand.

"Nev, this is Davy, my eldest, Jim, May you've met, and Lily. The other two, Beth and Kit, are having their mid morning naps. Children, this is your Uncle Nev and Aunt Luna."

"Hullo!" Jim piped up first and stuck out a hand, something he'd learned from Ferdi and Neville shook it, before shaking the hands of the rest of the children when they copied their brother. Luna hugged them all and blew in their ears to chase away the chizpurfles, which the children accepted without fuss.

Harry grinned and told the children to find Winky for a snack, though May refused to let go of him. He told Neville he'd see him later and headed off to find Armando, hoping to head whatever she was coming down with off at the pass.

0o0o0o0

Dear Hagrid,

Neville and Luna have arrived safely and seem to have settled in well. Luna is helping Mrs Kowalski with the younger children for the most part, though sometimes she wanders off to look for animals no one has ever heard of. She just turned up in the day care tent one morning and has been a regular ever since, which is nice because it has made people accept her so much more quickly. She is still a little eccentric, but thankfully the team is a lot more accepting than our peers at Hogwarts had been. Neville is giddy in love with his wife, even after all this time, and its nice to see them both so happy. Things were so grim at the end, so seeing that these two have at least found each other makes life a little easier on me. We don't talk about England, though. I don't think I could bear it, and Neville says that he hasn't been home in years.

Apparently, they left a couple of months after I did, and went to Italy. Luna had family there, and with her father gone, and Mrs Longbottom and his parents gone, they were happy for the fresh start. They married in Italy, and have been wandering around the globe since, Neville for his work and Luna to make sure a plant didn't eat him. Those are her words, not his, and he gives her such a smile when she says them…

In other news, the entire camp full of children has come down with Wizards pox. Apparently, it takes six weeks to incubate, and we think that May – who had the first case of it – must have come into contact with someone who was contagious but not symptomatic on the beach in Spain. She had it first, and then the rest of my brood went down with it, one after the other. Even Kit got a mild dose, poor love, and he soon discovered that itching with fur was worse than itching with skin. We haven't seen the tiger cub in weeks. The youngest Welsh's had it as well, as did the quads, and Ray's two children. Armando says that it's a normal thing for them all to come down with, and better that they have it in childhood than as an adult.

I also had it, and spent a week under Armando's care in the hospital tent, delirious with fever. Adults don't usually catch it apparently, and it's a bit more serious when they do – or at least that's what Armando says. I'm completely recovered now and back in my own home with my children, who I missed. Happily, the itches and spots only last for a week for the children, then they go around looking like plague victims for a few days and then it disappears. You will note that I'm not sending photos this time – I don't want to remember my children so miserably unwell, even if they did look odd slathered in aloe or sitting in a bath full of oatmeal. Ben and Nev provided the ingredients for those cures, and we're all very grateful that Ben had the foresight to be growing home remedies.

The wood mason has arrived and I've seen a few of his products. It's incredible how he manages to make the wood _grow_ into furniture, using a careful application of spells to shape it and speed things up. He's got a greenhouse come studio of his own as well as his personal tent, and we've had to expand the camp to keep up with the sheer number of residences and workplaces! The new tutor arrived not long after Nev and the Vecchio's did, and she seems to have an eye on our mason. She batted her eyes at me once or twice, but as you know, I've no interest in that.

Argent has announced her pregnancy, her first child due a few months after Francesca, who only has four to go. Argent has stated that she wants to remain in the camp for her delivery, and at Trinket's request, we've sent for her Clan's midwife, to stay with them as she approaches her due date. There is some Goblin tradition about being born in the place you were conceived, and this is why she wants to stay in camp. Armando is a bit twitchy, mainly because it will mean we're so far away from outside help during her delivery, and we're all doing our best to reassure him. Trinket it walking on air, he's so proud, and its good to see him so happy.

We think that we're close to finalising the location of the fifth tomb, and we'll be moving on in the next few weeks. This site is almost finished with, and we'll be handing it over soon. I can hardly believe that it's been five years already. Looking back, there have been so many changes in my life in such a short time, and each one for the better! Who'd have thought that I'd be blessed with so many wonderful children and an extended family? When I hired these people to start with they were just people, but we rapidly became so much more to each other, and I have to say that's been the key to our success. I've got two wonderful sisters in Elaine and Frannie and a network of friends and brothers that would make any man proud.

Well, that was a bit off topic! Sorry to make a speech at you Hagrid, that was never my intention! We started off with plants and pox and ended up with a soliloquy! I think I'll wrap this up now, with hopes that you are well…

Love Harry, Davy, Jim, May, Lily, Beth and Kit.

0o0o0o0


	10. Chapter 10

0o0o0o0

0o0o0o0

**FIFTH TOMB**

0o0o0o0

_**Extract from 'Harry Potter: The Man behind the Legend. An Unofficial Biography'**_

… _The arrival of persons from outside Harry Potter's Guild marked the true beginning of what later became known as the 'Tent City'. These people and their families had little impact on the way that Potter and his team worked, but did impact on their recreation hours. The inclusion of several school age children necessitated the formalisation of the education being offered, and led to the International Courts recognition of Damian Kowalski as Headmaster of the Nomad Primary. It was also at this time that a second Healer was hired by the City, expanding the medical facilities and freeing Armando Vecchio to begin research into the spell damage protocols that to this day are in use in hospitals all over the world._

_With so many nationalities in the City, a true multi lingual community emerged. It was not uncommon in the early days to hear people carrying on a conversation in a multitude of languages, though English continued to be the common language for day-to-day life. It was also here that the true equality of Potters ideals became evident. There were no barriers between races or classes, and Goblins and Humans lived side by side in a way that had never been seen before, with both parties benefiting from the close contact._

_The team spent the longest amount of time at this site, a record year and a half, as the Fifth Tomb of Anacosta proved to be the most surprising of all of the tombs…_

0o0o0o0

Harry looked around at the expanded communal area and grinned. They were once again post dinner, and adults were sitting in groups at the rows of tables that they had arranged to accommodate the sheer numbers of people and children. It came as no surprise to him that the Masters that applied to join them in camp were all young, or had young families. Armando had been approached to take on an apprentice in his tent hospital who was looking to specialise in treating spell damage, and had brought along his fiancé and a pair of boarhounds that reminded Harry of Fang.

The children were delighted at all the new playmates, and had taught the rules for the new and improved game of tag to them right away. The older ones were now happily running around, the brightly coloured tents making a solid barrier of colour to limit their play area. Writing the charter had convinced the team that they needed an accountant at the very least; to keep straight all the payments to those whose work offered a community service. Someone from Gringott's now travelled to the site on a regular basis, offering a secure delivery service of documents and contracts for those at the camp for an additional fee.

Neville settled onto the bench next to him, and looked over the chess game that Harry was playing with Ben. They were evenly matched, and the game was a nice challenge to Harry, something that wouldn't kill him at the end of the day if he lost to it.

"Hey Nev," Harry said easily and sipped at his red wine. It was Ben's move, and Harry was feeling confident. Nev was dangling a tumbler of clear liquor from one hand, and sat sideways on the bench beside Harry, looking over the game curiously.

"Hey Harry," Nev smiled but they were interrupted by Lily throwing herself into Harry's lap, giggling and hugging him close.

"Lily," Harry looked down at her, smiling in sheer sympathy at the happy sounds she was making, "What's up."

"Jim's chasing me!" she reported and Harry turned to look. Sure enough, his son was giving his daughter a frown.

"Unfair," he called and Lily reached up to kiss Harry's cheek. Harry kissed her back and closed his arms loosely around her.

"I'll hold her, you tag her," he called to Jim, who gave him a wicked grin. Lily shrieked as her brother started forward and eeled out of Harry's arms, dashing off with Jim in close pursuit.

"Thanks dad!" his son shouted as he raced past, and Harry waved back in reply, turning to watch Ben make his move. Nev sighed softly, and Harry shot him a glance.

"I envy you," Nev proved he had not lost the ability to read Harry's looks, something that the Gryffindor boys had done almost from the start, "Luna took a curse… she can never have children."

"Why can't you?" Ben asked as Harry pondered his move, "Harry and I have both borne ours."

Nev gaped at his colleague and Harry kept his head down. This seemed like a very obvious solution to him, but then he'd been having children for the last four years, and was scheduled to get pregnant again in the next month or so. He didn't think twice of it now, and was a little astonished that he'd been so timid about the whole idea at first. He was still worried about raising his children properly, but that was something that all the parents on his team worried about, and it reassured him that he wasn't alone in that.

"Armando could certainly tell if it was possible," Harry agreed when Nev looked to him for advice, "And Elaine and Harding are very familiar with tailoring the rituals and rites involved. You could ask them what they thought of it."

"Would I be able to hire them to tailor it to us if Luna wanted?" Nev asked, "As their boss, you'd have to give approval, Harry."

Harry snorted and looked up at his friend. As long as there were no conflicts of interest, and there wasn't one here, his team could hire out to do work for others. He did not intend to rule the camp with an iron fist, despite the fact that it was his work as team leader that dictated their schedules and location.

"I do not," he replied firmly, "They are more than capable of managing their own workload. Sure, their first duty is to the team, but I'm certain they can find the time to work on this for you."

The look on Nev's face said it all and he got up, gripping Harry's shoulder tightly for a moment and then turning to collect his wife. Whatever it was he said had Luna abandoning her discussion with the new tutor and following her husband to their tent. Harry looked back at his opponent, and saw that Ben was giving him a very gentle smile.

"That was a kindness, Harry," Ben said gently, "I'd forgotten that men bearing children was not widely considered a first option for many. All the time I've spent watching you do it, and my own two experiences have made it seem… almost mundane."

"That's me, mundane and dull," Harry grinned, pleased that he had finally gained some measure of acceptance and normality in his life. The irony that a single man getting pregnant five times and adopting twice was considered normal did not escape him. Ben snorted at him and gestured that it was his move.

"Check," Harry smirked and Ben sighed, shaking his head. A minute later, Harry was shaking his head in despair.

"Checkmate."

0o0o0o0

"That is incredible," Harry shook his head, "The entire thing?"

"Yup," Trinket borrowed a word from Harry, and the green-eyed man grinned down at him.

"That has to be the most ambitious thing I have ever heard of," Ray shook his head, pulling his thick cloak closer to ward off the wind. They were high in the mountains for this site, and the cold was biting. The children were being kept inside during the dark hours of the day and Armando had warned the whole camp to check for frostbite and chilblains on little fingers and toes. Harry did so religiously, twice a day, and he knew that Dobby and Winky were also checking.

"The whole foothill, hollowed out," Harry shook his head, "What astonishes me is that there is absolutely no sign of the construction or earth disturbance that must have occurred."

"My conclusions are solid, Potter," Trinket said firmly and handed over the journal he'd recorded his findings in. There was no hint of offence or resentment in his tone, something that Harry appreciated deeply. His work was double-checked; in fact, there wasn't a single person on the team who didn't have someone review their findings. It was what kept them safe when working with the vicious and highly reactive nature of the wards and defences on the tomb.

"By these calculations, I should be able to detect the Soul Gem most strongly from that point," Harry marked the position, and Trinket nodded. Ray leaned in to have a look and all three gathered their packs before walking back to the flying carpet. Ray had cast a localised warming charm on the carpet to prevent windburn and other such discomforts, and Harry blessed the man's forethought as they whisked through the chilled air. They were using the Scarab today, the trusty carpet offering the best platform for the three of them.

As they reached the vantage point that Trinket had indicated, Harry sat up straighter. The beguiling tugging sensation that he associated with the presence of the Soul Gems was once more making itself felt, and Ray put a hand on his back to steady him. Trinket had been in charge of the flying, as they all knew that the effect of the Gems on Harry could be very distracting initially.

"This is the strongest indication I've felt of all previous sites," Harry gasped, his hand actually rubbing his chest, "Trinket, left a bit…"

The Goblin gave him a worried look and drifted left until Harry's choked exclamation alerted him that they were very close to their target. Ray had actually wrapped his arm around Harry to keep him upright and steady on the rug, a worried look on his face.

"Maybe he's sickening for something again," Harry's assistant spoke over his head, and the Goblin grunted in agreement, "I've got our position noted, get us back to Armando, Trinket, quickly as you can."

Harry didn't have the breath to spare to countermand the order, as he was feeling shaky and dizzy. Ray's arm was all that was keeping him on the carpet as Trinket smoothly piloted them back towards the camp. The further away they got from the Soul Gem the more in control Harry felt until he was able to sit up properly and breathe normally.

"Harry? What was that about?" Ray's voice had an undercurrent of worry in it that Harry was sorry to have caused. He smiled at his assistant and took stock of his body the way he'd learned to after a battle. Sometimes injuries weren't readily apparent in the immediate aftermath, but Harry had learned to listen carefully to what his body was trying to tell him.

"I've got no idea," he finally confessed, "I feel fine. It just came on suddenly."

They swooped into the camp and didn't stop until they were outside the Hospital tent. Ray leapt off and Harry followed lightly, not needing the assistance that Ray stood ready to offer. Trinket hopped to the ground as well and followed them, a scowl on his face.

"Vecchio! Potter has had another reaction!" the Goblin's voice was loud and urgent, and Armando appeared from the storeroom with his apprentice in tow. He had Harry up on a bed and under diagnostic spells in seconds, reading the results carefully and mumbling under his breath.

"Nothing," he stepped back finally, "You're as healthy as anyone else, Harry. What actually happened?"

"Shortness of breath, dizziness and weakness," Harry reported dutifully, "I didn't faint, but I felt as if I could have."

"I was flying the carpet at top speed," Trinket admitted, "I wanted to be clear of the area as quickly as possible."

"Was it the Gem or something else?" Armando asked, running another series of spells. Frannie, Elaine and Harding appeared, aware that something had gone wrong by the way they'd rushed straight to the Hospital tent.

"Definitely the Gem. It was no more than a hundred yards away from our location, straight ahead," Harry informed him and Ray made a note of that on the map where he'd marked their position.

"Did either of you feel anything?" Armando asked, and flicked his spells over Ray and Trinket as well for comparison. Both men shook their heads and reported that while they could sense the vague feeling that there was a Gem nearby – something they'd all been able to sense at each site – they'd experienced no side effects, negative or positive.

"Well, we'll go have a look at the wards," Elaine said, "If Trinket can take us back there. Maybe there is something there that is attacking Harry specifically."

Harry nodded and got up off the bed, walking his team outside, intending to go back over the information they'd put together on the fifth tomb. He had a vague feeling of foreboding about this.

0o0o0o0

The heavy and ornate robes were much more comfortable than they looked. Goblin runes and Arithmancy symbols graced the hems, and the rich material flared and billowed as Harry moved. He looked wholly unfamiliar in them – his comfortable, familiar and approachable self buried under unaccustomed finery. In these robes, Harry looked every inch the powerful and majestic commander that he hid so skilfully in his every day life. There was no relaxed slouch to his spine, no loose-limbed casual gestures, no engaging tilt of his head; the robes would not permit it.

The chair that Trinket had carved for him had been moved from the front room of the Goblin's tent and placed outside in the area cleared around the tent. At the edges of the clearing, the team and their children stood in silent witness, Harry's children under the watchful eye of Dobby, Winky and the Kowalski's, Frannie's three month old babe cradled in her arms. As blood members of the Clan, Gravel and Gripclaw stood a good few steps in front of the silent crowd.

Gripclaw had tried to replace the chair that Harry stood before with a much more ornate one, but Harry had refused to use any other than the one that Trinket had made with his own two hands. When Gripclaw had tried to explain that his brother-in-law was not as skilled in the art of stone as himself, Harry had responded with a very flat look and silence. He had been touched by the gesture that Trinket had made with the attempt, and though the chair was plain, it had clean lines and an understated elegance. Harry had enough finery on as it was without adding to the spectacle.

Just before lunch, Argent had gone into labour, and when the midwife had confirmed that his first-born was soon to arrive, Trinket had notified Harry. That was seven hours ago. It was apparently a very high mark of esteem for Harry to wait outside Trinket's abode for the news of the safe delivery, and Gravel had informed him the week before when she was dropping off the robes made for her sister-in-law's delivery that Harry would be expected to be dressed as befitted someone of his power in Trinket's life. Further probing showed that the presence of Trinket's colleagues and Harry's children would add to the honour of the occasion, though they were not required to wait the entire time there. Trinket had sent a message to his sister-in-law when the birth was imminent and she in turn had summoned the others.

Now as Harry waited, the rest of the camp thronged closer, standing quietly and with respect for the ritual. He'd posted a notice on the message board that Ray had erected in the communal area about what was happening today, and from what he could see the entire camp had decided to show their support and welcome the child. Gripclaw seemed very gratified that his sister's first baby was being welcomed in this way, and Harry hoped that Argent would be as receptive.

The flap of the tent rustled and the midwife stepped out, carrying a bowl of herbs that were smouldering lightly, the bittersweet scent drifting over to Harry. The herbs were there to protect the newborn from external Dark influences, but they were only set alight if the child had been delivered safely. This was a good sign and Harry felt a slight smile cross his face.

Argent came next, wearing bright red robes, her hair loose on her shoulders and her feet bare. She carried an unsheathed dagger, which Trinket had presented to her when they first learned she was pregnant. The dagger represented the protection she would offer her child as it grew. The bright red… well considering she'd just delivered a child Harry could guess what that meant. Goblin's bled much brighter than Humans.

The midwife stood on one side of Harry, and Argent on the other. He noticed that her eyes widened in pleased surprise when she realised that the entire camp was waiting to see her new child. Harry wasn't even sure if it was a boy or a girl, as that was an honour that fell to Trinket. He would either be presented with an Heir, which meant a boy – or an Heir Apparent, which meant a girl.

Trinket emerged from the tent and came to a complete halt, his eyes wide when he saw the throng of people gathered to greet his child. The Goblin wore his full battle armour, with the markings of his Guild emblazoned across the helm. A tiny baby rested in his arms, wrapped in the receiving blanket that Harry had sent over for the delivery. It was the same one that had been given to him by Hagrid and he'd used with each of his own babies, as close to a family heirloom as he could get. Trinket had actually blushed and stammered when Harry had given him the blanket, an unprecedented event from the self-possessed Goblin.

The new father walked to Harry, stopping well inside arms reach and shifting his grip carefully. The baby was sleeping, and Harry had a feeling that they would all get through this much easier if things stayed that way. Trinket's next words completely changed the circumstances they were gathered under.

"Elder," Trinket's words caused the midwife and Gravel to gasp, though Harry thought that Argent and Gripclaw were smirking in approval, "I present to you my Heir," and he named the child in Gobbledegook, a long string of names that clearly denoted his lineage, "To be known in public as Tinker, in honour of your name."

Harry was suddenly scrabbling through his memories for the words that Cleaver had told him about when Harry had asked his mentor about the Naming Ceremony being planned for Cleaver's Heir. He wasn't entirely sure, but by naming the boy publicly to Harry before doing so to his Clan Elders, Trinket was effectively cutting all ties with his and Argent's Clan, forming a new one of their own. Under these circumstances, their social standing with other Goblin's would increase dramatically, because even though they had both acknowledged a life debt to Harry, by acknowledging their son, he was in fact acknowledging them publicly as peers, not slaves, and their children's place in society would be secured. Harry's position as their 'owner' was now softened to that of Clan Elder, a much more palatable role for all concerned. Now all he had to do was remember the right words.

"Welcome to the Clan, Youngest. May your deeds be noble, your skirmishes victorious, and your endeavours successful."

The short string of Gobbledegook was carefully pronounced, but the gleam in Trinket's eyes and the astonished look on Argent's face said he had it right. Trinket held the baby out, and Harry leaned down and accepted it into his arms, the child so small that he could almost hold him in one hand. Very carefully, he held the child aloft so that everyone could see it, and turned from side to side. He'd put this bit of the ceremony up on the message board and hoped that people remembered it now.

"Tinker!" he said in a strong voice, smiled when the crowd called back in one voice,

"Welcome!"

The midwife handed the bowl of herbs to Argent as he lowered the child back to a more secure hold and nodded once to Harry before walking away. He had no idea what she thought of the power play that had just occurred. The newly freed Trinket came to stand in her place and Harry settled Tinker into the crook of his arm gently. All he had to do now was sit down with Tinker and let people walk past to congratulate the parents.

"I didn't think you'd mind, Potter," Trinket muttered out of the side of his mouth as Gripclaw and Gravel came to look at the latest addition to their sister's household, followed in an orderly line by the rest of the camp. Harry was glad to see that his children were close to the front of the line, not even wanting to contemplate dealing with six overtired Potters tomorrow.

"Of course I don't," Harry replied just as discretely and settled himself into his chair comfortably before waving one into existence for Argent. She sat with a sigh of relief and he smiled at her, being very careful not to show any teeth. Her own smile was just as joyful.

0o0o0o0

Harry leaned back in his chair and frowned at the diagrams flowing in front of him. He'd managed to find a way to put all of the ward diagrams for the five tombs onto one page, using a different colour for each one. With a few seasonal and geographical exceptions, the wards generated by to Soul Gem were as close to identical as made no difference.

Armando had checked him over carefully, and had found no sign of any illness or malaise in Harry. The rest of the team had reported no further side effects from being near the tomb, and none of the inhabitants of the camp that were not affiliated with the curse breakers had reported feeling any discomfort or unease. Despite all that, Harry still couldn't get close enough to the tomb to check it out for himself.

The whole team were quite naturally concerned about this. If Harry couldn't get near the tomb, then he couldn't go through with the ritual. Elaine had already volunteered to take the last Soul Gem into herself, but Harry had wanted to see the whole thing through to the end, and that meant bearing all five children. He'd steeled himself to perform the act, and to have the final stage snatched away from him would be a deeply felt disappointment.

Winky popped into the library and put her hands on her hips, tapping one little green foot and scowling at him mightily.

"Master Harry, it is past you bed time!" she scolded, and Harry grinned down at her.

"You know Winky, if I was ever looking for a mother, she would be just like you," he told his elf, and she smiled up at him in pleasure, "You take wonderful care of me and the children."

"Master Harry is a good and wise master. Winky and Dobby love him very much!" Winky beamed, and Dobby popped in beside her.

"Winky is supposed to be getting Master Harry to bed!" he told his mate, "Not telling him nice things!"

"Ah Dobby, don't be cross," Harry placated the senior elf, "I distracted her."

"Master Harry is as good as the little Potter's at that," Dobby conceded, "Dobby wishes that they had not learned that from their dad."

"Sorry," Harry shrugged, "I guess it's a family trait."

"Master Harry is not happy," Winky said softly to Dobby, and Dobby turned to look up at his master with soulful eyes.

"That is why he is needing to go to bed!" Dobby insisted, "Master Harry needs to be fit for the new baby."

Harry sighed and sat on the floor with his elves, taking their hands in his. On his desk, the evidence continued to scroll, repeating the sequence in endless damnation. Dobby and Winky both stepped in close and wrapped their hands around their masters, offering encouraging smiles. There was no fear or hesitance in the gesture and Harry was glad to see it. They had never seen a day of pain or abuse in his service, and didn't expect it from him or the children.

"There may not be a baby," he confessed, "I can't get near enough to the tomb to participate in the ritual. Mrs Welsh may have to take my place, because she can get closer to the Soul Gem."

"Master Harry only fainted because he had a cold, last time," Dobby insisted, "Winky and Dobby needs to make sure Master Harry is fit so Master Harry can have the new baby! Winky and Dobby want to help!"

"I know you do," Harry smiled, "And I can't thank you enough. As sad as I am to think that the last baby won't be one of mine, at least we'll be freeing the last Soul Gem. That has to count for something. Once the ritual is done, I won't be sad any more. I'm sorry I've got you both so worried."

The elves worry explained why their dinners of late had been so scrupulously healthy. If Winky and Dobby were trying to get him up to speed so he could get near the Soul Gem then they were forced to work within the constraints of a bound elf's power over their master. That meant diet and, in the case of these two particular elves, bedtime.

Winky straightened up and wagged her finger at him, "You is still needing to go to bed!"

Harry laughed and gave in, picking himself up off the floor obediently, and heading for his bed, leaving the wards parchment on the desk behind him.

0o0o0o0

"Frannie?" Harry skidded into the tent and looked at the members of his team draped over the hospital beds. They had intended to perform the ritual for Elaine this morning, having calculated that today was the best time of the month for both her and the Soul Gem. Harry's scar had been a bit tender for the last hour or so, but he'd been expecting that and had been occluding fiercely in order to prevent himself from distracting the Gem.

Frannie had been an observer for the ritual, and therefore had been stationed quite a way back, in case something went wrong. She'd borrowed Harry's twelve seater, and had used that to ferry Trinket, Elaine and Ray back to camp when things went wrong. Armando was standing quite calmly by his potions cupboard, so Harry knew that no one was in life threatening danger.

"They're fine, just a bit sore in the head and… tail bones," Frannie smiled sweetly, "The ritual didn't take, and the Gem sent out a pulse that knocked them all on their arses."

"I felt it," Harry confirmed, resisting the urge to rub at his aching scar, "I wasn't sure what it meant though."

"The Gem rejected Elaine, the same way it did me," Frannie said it softly. She hadn't been considered a candidate after the failed ritual had increased her fertility to the point of bearing quads. They didn't want to put her under that sort of strain again, and Elaine was fully aware that if the ritual failed she and Harding would have to take some very strong precautions of their own.

"Maybe it needs to be a man," Ray winced from the nearby bed. Harry went over to his assistant and put a hand on the man's wrist. Ben was already there, holding onto his spouse and frowning. It was true that the Gem had chosen Harry over Elaine, but he felt it was more likely to be because of his scar than because of his gender.

"I don't think that's the case," he said quietly, and Ben sighed.

"Unless you suddenly become able to go near the site, it's a theory that we should test," the Herbologist said firmly, "And I wouldn't mind bearing a third child under these circumstances."

"And just to be sure, you should leave the site completely. Spend the day in Lima or something, just don't be near here. That way if you _are_ somehow distracting the Gem from the ritual you'll be out of its range."

Ray's suggestion was a surprising one, and Harry patted his wrist again, promising to think about it. At Armando's not so subtle hint ('get out and let my patients rest, Potter') he collected Frannie and took the carpet back up. He let Frannie head over to the tomb in the vague hope that the aborted ritual had at least lessened the Gem's effect on him, but they didn't get any closer than Harry ever had before the shortness of breath and dizziness set in.

Frannie took them away again and flew along randomly for a while, as Harry regained control. He wanted to weep in frustration, but controlled himself sharply. If they couldn't get the ritual done to rescue the soul inside the Gem, then the only way to take the wards down was to destroy the Gem and its contents. That was unacceptable to him, and he didn't even have the option of leaving the tomb intact. The gem would begin to destabilise soon, as it's 'siblings' were no longer operating. Eventually the Gem would destroy itself and the tomb it guarded. Either way, the failure of the ritual would lead to the Gem's death.

"Caro, we'll think of something," Frannie had apparently added mind reading to her list of many talents, "Please don't despair."

"I have the best team in the field," Harry forced a smile, that gradually became genuine; "I know we will."

He'd get them to perform the ritual on his unconscious body before he let the Gem die.

0o0o0o0

The next available window of opportunity came one week later, and Harry took all of his children into Lima for the day as he'd been directed. They port keyed to the Gringott's branch and he led them down into the magical part of the city.

Lima's version of Diagon Alley was much more colourful and set up more like a bazaar than a shopping street. Harry had tagged all of his children with spells and port keys in case of emergencies, and the Potter herd spent an enjoyable day rambling through the many shops and stalls on offer.

They had lunch at a café that had tables on the street where you could watch people walk by, and then went to the small hotel where Harry had booked a room to put everyone down for a nap. The children slept through the hour that the ritual was to occur and missed their father grimacing in pain despite the occulmency that he was practicing. He had a feeling that the ritual had not worked again, but forced those thoughts aside. Davy found his dad out on the balcony, reading a book while people wandered by below, and snuggled in for story time. One by one, his children woke and joined him outside, and for a while, he could forget the troubles of the team and the fifth tomb.

Once everyone was awake, they went back down to the shops and had a last look around. Jim fell in love with a broom seller, or rather with her goods, and Harry found himself purchasing brooms for his eldest boys. May favoured flying carpets and Lily wasn't too fond of flying unless her dad was holding onto her, so there were only two beginner's brooms to be bought at this time. Harry was glad he'd kept his Firebolt, as it was likely he'd have a hard time keeping up with his sons otherwise.

The Goblin's allowed them to reuse the antechamber that they'd arrived in, and Harry was back in the camp in time for the communal dinner. He didn't need to see the disappointed looks on Ben and Ray's face to know that the ritual hadn't taken, but he listened to the report attentively. At the end, he'd hugged Ben, commiserating with the other man and Ray had ushered his spouse off to their tent. Their children were spending the night with Harry's in a 'sleep over' to allow the men time to recover in peace.

Post dinner found Harry in bed, a book propped on his knees. He'd put Kit and Albert into the cradle together, but Kit had fussed so much that he'd had to take his son out again; Albert had simply rolled over and gone to sleep. With Kit propped on his chest and the book on his knees, Harry had just enough mobility to look to the left where Jim was cuddling with Beth, and Davy with Victoria Fraser. May and Lily were on his other side, nestled together as they listened to the story their Dad was sharing with them.

It was one of the most peaceful moments of his life.

0o0o0o0

"Right," Harry grinned at his frustrated team across the parchment and book strewn surface of the communal table, "We are gathered here today…"

"To resign," Ray muttered gloomily. Then he grinned at Harry, his familiar cheek cutting through the gloom.

"To hand in our 'best team in the field' badges," Elaine added with a glum look at her husband, who rolled his eyes and patted her shoulder gingerly. Frannie propped a hand on her chin and blew a frustrated breath at a strand of hair in her eyes.

"To wonder where it all went so wrong," she added. Harry rolled his eyes at their melodramatics and turned to the last member of his team, sure that _this_ one wouldn't let him down.

"To resist the urge to hex someone," Trinket glared at them all right on cue, "Where's your sense of determination? The battle is only just joined!"

"And we _will_ crack it," Harry added, "We _are_ the best team in the field, and I'm not giving up so easily. So let's start from the very beginning…"

"A good place to start," Trinket nodded approval and pulled out his copy of the ward diagram, "This is the ward that is powered…"

"Hang on, that's not the beginning," Ray muttered, "The beginning is the location."

"Actually the beginning is the clues," Frannie rebutted and Harry leaned on his elbows, watching as they started debating how and where the problem started. This was why they were such a good team – they all brought their own perspectives to the table, and their ability to communicate that was what allowed him to pluck the solution from seemingly thin air.

He let them talk through the tombs again, watching as they reconstructed the path that had led them to this current tomb. They went through the wards for each site one by one, ending with the fifth tomb.

"Maybe there's something in that," Ray suggested suddenly, "Something in the wards, something we're missing."

"I tried that," Harry confessed and pulled out his animated parchment, "I plotted all five sites and compared them as they cycled through, and there's nothing."

"Harry," Elaine's voice sounded a little strangled, "Where did you get this?"

"I've got a copy of all the wards, as per your diagrams," Harry was surprised by the look on her face, "All I did was copy them onto a fresh parchment, and then combine them using the same spell that I do with my journals. You know, the one that merges photos and things into the pages themselves. Then I animated it using a variant of a spell that teenagers use on their cartoons."

"I've never seen this spell used in this manner," Harding said and elbowed his fascinated wife, "This is… a really different idea."

"What made you animate it? I mean, how did you get it to present as one ward and show the fluctuations in cycle?" Elaine persisted, and Harry spoke to her for a while about the animation spell and the variant he'd used while the rest of the team examined the parchment in more detail. Elaine was a little exasperated that he'd developed such a tool and not told her about it. Harry had to explain that he'd assumed she had a better version that she used for herself and winced when she smacked his arm.

"This is why you irritate me, Harry. You think we're so much more clever than we are. I want proper copies of that spell, and instructions on its use. It needs to go in the spell journal for our team, so we can register it with the Guild and the Bank," she shook her head, and Harry blushed a little. He wasn't above playing around with spells on occasion to tailor them to his needs, though it was more of a tinkering job than proper arithmancy.

"Why is it all black, and then flashing with colours?" Trinket asked, breaking into their side conversation and Harry returned his attention to the parchment. He waited until there was a good example of the phenomenon and then froze the parchment, getting an annoyed sound from Harding and an eye roll from Elaine.

"The wards are five different colours, actually," Harry pointed to the relevant colours, matching them off, "The diagram is all black where the wards are identical. The colours separate out from that when they vary according to season or because of their geographical location."

"Can you animate the wards from the fifth tomb?" Harding had an odd look in his eye, and he passed over the diagram in question. Wards tended to be diagrammed in a kind of flow chart, with archaic symbols and strings of numbers delineating response types and mandated reactions to specific stimuli. They were very complicated to follow, and Harry had found that animating them made it easier to look at. Wards, by their very nature, were dynamic and active, so it made sense to him to look at them dynamically. He'd also found that prodding certain areas with his wand got a simulated response, which helped him devise his plan of attack.

The team watched as the wards slowly cycled through their range of active and passive defences.

"There!" Elaine jabbed with a finger, "Did you see that?"

There were mutters and grumbles as they leaned in and watched the phenomena repeat subtly several times. Harry sat back in shock after a minute, staring at Ray.

"There are two sets of wards here," he shook his head, "That's why the team couldn't conduct the ritual. It's why the Soul Gem is affecting me so strongly."

"Great googamooga," Trinket swore, "How did I miss that? It's obvious!"

"Hindsight is 20:20," Ray replied, "Is that why the ritual failed for Ben? Because we were working on one ward when there should have been two?"

"Maybe," Elaine muttered, feverishly annotating a copy of the last ritual, checking her arithmancy to see if the second set of wards would affect the process.

"Why are there two sets?" Frannie frowned, and Harry turned a distant gaze on her, his mind whirling with possibilities. He'd been reviewing the entire sequence of tombs for the last month, immersing himself in Anacosta's plans and sequences, and with the new information, a sneaking suspicion was forming.

"This is the largest of all five tombs," he said slowly, "It is precisely twice the size of the Kangaroo, which was larger than the others."

"That was the first tomb," Ray recalled, though he hadn't been with the team at the time, "It had the most information, but from a purely material point of view, it had the least net worth."

"Anacosta liked irony," Harry agreed, "The smallest tomb was the snake, and it held the greatest _material_ wealth. The others have varied according to size, and before you yell at me Frannie, it's not about the money."

"It's not _just_ about the money," Trinket muttered under his breath and Frannie huffed at him. Harry flashed them both a grin and then turned his attention back to the matter at hand.

"The entire foothill has been hollowed out, which is far too large for a _single_ client," Harry ran a hand through his hair, "And there are _double_ wards here…"

"You think there are two tombs contained here," Trinket's eyes lit up, "Two persons…"

"What, the original client and his wife?" Ray suggested with a frown, "That doesn't seem likely, does it?"

"Ray, this particular culture wasn't one for building funerary monuments for a single individual on quite this scale. That was more of an Egyptian thing," Frannie shook her head; "We're dealing with five very unusual sites for this area. It could be anyone in the second tomb."

"Actually I have a guess about that," Harry broke in, "This tomb dates from the time of Anacosta's disappearance. It's one of the reasons we've had so many people from the Curse Breakers Guild and the Master Wardsmen wanting to come out here. If we can date this site accurately it may be Anacosta's last known work."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Ray gaped at him in astonishment, "Anacosta might actually be buried _here_?"

"It's a wild guess based on a tenuous series of suppositions," Harry conceded, "There's no way to actually confirm that until we get in there."

"Well why don't we attack the wards? You said they were doubles, right? So if we attack them in two places, then run the ritual simultaneously, we should be able to get it to work," Frannie suggested and Harding shook his head.

"These wards are very reactive," he informed the team linguist, "And very old. They're also very lethal – whoever is involved in the attacking parties could be killed. That's not a responsibility I'm willing to have on my head. In addition if we _were_ to do that we run the risk of damaging the Soul Gem... which is not what we want."

"Good point," Frannie nodded, and Harry smiled at her.

"Besides, they're built to target only the places under attack," he shrugged, "They cover the whole foothill in a passive state, but only activate at the point of attack – it's actually the most advanced set of wards I've seen for this time period. We'd have to attack at least thirty percent of the wards in equidistant locations to get the effect you're describing, and the attacks would have to be on the high end of the scale and simultaneous. Even if we wanted to take the risk, the logistics and potential for disaster are far too great."

"And they aren't exact doubles," Elaine frowned, "They've got a subtle point of divergence here, I can't quite pin it down."

"How do they affect the ritual?" Ray asked, and Harry had no doubt that his assistant was thinking of his spouse and their disappointment. Elaine looked up and sighed.

"The one that we weren't focussed on protected the other," she confirmed, "That _is_ why the ritual failed."

"Now that we know there are two, does that mean we can get Harry to the site?" Frannie tapped an elegant finger on the diagram in question, and Harry shook his head.

"If I put up any kind of shielding to the Gem I wouldn't be able to take part in the ritual," he shrugged, "And if you just knock me out and take me up there I'll still experience the effects, just unconsciously."

"Yeah, but you won't be conscious, that's the point. You won't feel the effects at all," Frannie agreed, "And you don't need to be for the ritual, because all the casting is done on you, not by you."

"It would be too dangerous. Harry could stop breathing if he's not conscious, and we would be occupied so we might not notice in time," Harding vetoed that idea, "But if you were the one conducting the ritual, Harry, you could have shields up the whole time."

"Ben would probably be willing to try again," Ray offered, "In fact; after the first ritual failed we decided we wanted to go through the normal ritual anyway."

"I'd be willing to try again as well," Elaine offered, "Once we were sure that the shields worked for you, boss. That way you've got the back up ritual as well."

"Alright," Harry blew out a breath, "Let's go through this carefully from start to finish. Ray, could you find out if Ben can join us? And Frannie, I think we'll need Armando as well. Let's get this organised."

"Good thing this is June," Ray muttered as he got up, "We've still got _plenty_ of time to miss that prophecy of yours."

The half-heard remark touched Harry enormously.

0o0o0o0

Dear Hagrid,

I know that Dobby and Winky have likely contacted you to report on the events of last week, but I wanted to send my own letter to reassure you that I'm fine. I am expecting again, and this will be the last pregnancy. Partly because there are no more Soul Gems, but also because Armando suspects I've suffered some permanent spell damage, which will make conceiving further children difficult. I'm not unhappy about this; I already have six beautiful children, which is much more than I thought I'd ever have in this lifetime.

The ritual did go wrong, with rather spectacular results. No one was hurt at all, thank Merlin, but it was a close run thing for a while. Potter stubbornness apparently saved the day once again, according to my team, to which my reply is 'be thankful for it!'

Elaine and Ben were standing ready to take in the Soul Gem as we disarmed it, mainly because we weren't sure which version of the ritual would work the best. We were hoping that between the shields I was using and the occulmency, that the Gem would not be able to make use of my scar. Harding and Ray were also present, mainly to assist with the ritual, but also to support their spouses. It was a good thing that they were there, or Elaine and Ben would have ended up bearing each other's children. The ritual went along ok in the main part, but when we got to the bit that Harding calls the 'seed exchange' and what Ben calls 'cross pollination', the Gem itself roared to life and smashed straight through my shields.

In the confusion, I had to improvise the rest of the ritual or we'd have lost the soul, and the effect of the magic washing about amplified my intentions with the result that Ben and Ray created a new child, Harding and Elaine did the same, and the Soul Gem once again came to me. It was up to Frannie and Trinket, who were observing from a safe distance on the big carpet, to collect us all when the backlash dispersed and ferry us back to the camp.

Armando is keeping an especially close eye on Elaine, as apparently witches that conceive magically are prone to problems until their body absorbs the additional magical energy and takes over the maintenance of the pregnancy itself. He's also confirmed that she's carrying triplets, a discovery that prompted a deeper probe of Ben. He's only carrying a single baby, and from the lack of morning sickness, he and Ray think it's another boy.

Armando also took a deeper scan of me, which is how the spell damage came to be noticed. I'm not impotent (don't ask how I know) but he thinks that my fertility has been lowered to the point that conception in the manner my body has become used to will be unlikely. As I've already said, I'm not unhappy about that. I have six children already, and according to those deeper scans I mentioned, two more on the way.

Yes, you read that right. There were a double set of wards on the tomb that we're investigating at the moment, and the Gem itself was much larger than the previous four. We thought that might have meant that Anacosta used an older child than the babies he'd previously sacrificed, but apparently he took twins instead, which I am now bearing. At Armando's insistence, we are hiring a mid-wife for the camp, as any magical travel will be too dangerous closer to my delivery date. We'd have to leave camp in the next month or so, which won't do at all.

I've _already_ had a few bouts of morning sickness (oh deep joy), but they're intermittent, and I think that all of my hard won prior knowledge is about to be set on its ear. Dobby and Winky are already making plans and laying out contingencies, not to mention setting up a schedule for my bedtimes and snack times and everything else, and the Kowalski's have stepped up the amount of hours that they take care of the rest of the herd, and will do so until I get this under control.

The tomb itself is _fascinating_ and I have the feeling that we're going to be publishing whole encyclopaedias based upon our findings here! We're definitely going to be longer at this site than the others. Brightfeather and his flight have also arrived and settled in on the foothill itself, which is quite the sight!

That said: you are of course welcome to come and see us all, especially close to my due date, or for as long as you'd like. Davy and Jim are already a bit antsy, as they are old enough to have picked up the nervousness of Dobby and Winky, and the fact that I'm spending more time with Armando than is normal. A visit from their uncle would set their mind at ease. Truth be told, I would also love seeing you, as I am a bit more nervous about this pregnancy that I was for the others.

Hoping you're well,

Harry.

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_**Extract from 'Harry Potter: The Man behind the Legend. An Unofficial Biography'**_

… _The discovery of the final resting place of the Sorcerer Anacosta was one of enormous significance. Harry Potter and his team spent an additional eighteen months at the site after they had desouled the final Soul Gem, simply disarming and cataloguing the many traps and additional wards, as well as recording the unparalleled artefacts and academic finds contained within the double tomb. Because of this find, the team published a series of books considered to be the last word on Anacosta and the spell classes that he founded. Many lesser works were also published at this time, including one on the diagram animation charms that Harry Potter utilised in the field, something that many Charms Masters still laud to their apprentices to this day._

_The wealth and notoriety that the team gathered through the Final Tomb of Anacosta sealed their position as foremost of their field. The Curse Breakers Guild, Master Wardsmen, Arithmancers Guild and the Association of Linguists all began to insist that the team take in apprentices to train, something that Harry Potter had been able to resist prior to their latest discovery. Being able to claim an apprenticeship with Harry Potter or any other member of his team is still an honour that is much sought after._

_The Final Tomb of Anacosta was also the birthplace of the last of the Soul Gem's children. The twins, a boy and a girl, were delivered three full weeks early, in the midst of a blizzard, in their fathers' tent. They were the only of his eight children to have been born in Peru, making his family truly international. Sources close to the family state that the team were all in evidence during their Clan Leader's delivery, ready to welcome the last of Harry Potter's children…_

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	11. Chapter 11

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**EPILOGUE**

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Lake Victoria, located high in the mountains, was a very pleasant spot to work in. Despite its fame as one of the sources of the Nile, they had managed to find a very secluded area for their Tent City. The lake itself was beautiful, the climate pleasant, and the isolation was wonderful.

In the two years since the birth of his youngest children, Harry had come to realise that being all you could be only got you more paperwork, and an apprentice. He was glad that the Welsh's had already chosen the spot that the team was to take their two year vacation in, because if they hadn't had a secure place to go, Harry was sure he'd have gone spare.

Much to his surprise, the inhabitants of the Tent City had insisted on coming with them. Apparently, the protection offered by an anonymous location that could relocate at a whim was highly conducive to the work of several of the Guild masters that had joined them, not to mention the craftsmen, masons, smiths and artistes. There were twenty families now in residence, and not all of them Human. Three more Goblin's had arrived with spouses and children in tow, all of them in various fields of endeavour. The external commerce and trade was apparently booming, according to the reports that Ray supplied him with.

Evan Rubeus and Abigail Ginerva had thrived well after their early arrival. Harry had been worried that the intermittent severe bouts of morning sickness, plus the premature delivery would harm his children, but the mid-wife had assured him that the twins were early because they were ready to be born, and the one most affected by the morning sickness had been himself. He'd been badly underweight coming out of his last pregnancy and Armando still pestered him about it two years later. The ritual had apparently done more than lower his fertility level, it had sped up his metabolism to the point that he burned through body fat a lot more quickly than he had before.

They had been in camp for three entire months, and most of that time had been split between his children and his writing. As a Master in two Guilds, Harry had quite a few responsibilities to the field, and publishing was something he'd let slide whilst working actively on the tombs. When he and the team had announced their decision to take their accumulated leave in one block, he'd lost the defence that he was too busy to publish and in Ray's words, 'his chickens were coming home to roost'.

Brightfeather's flight had also settled into the surrounding area, and it wasn't uncommon to see the younger members engage in aerial displays above the water. The Hippogriff continued to seek Harry out when it had spotted something that he needed to deal with, and they had acquired a werecat cub in that manner when Harry and Brightfeather had killed its parent, which was busy trying to eat its way through a camp of Muggle tourists. Unlike the werewolf, werecats were not changed according to the cycles of the moon. Instead, the cat went from its furry, playful self to the leathery ruthless predator when it was threatened or hunting. Surprisingly, if a werecat was hand raised from a very young age, they became excellent guardians. Beth and the werecat, whom she named Spot, bonded almost immediately, and Spot was often found shadowing his young mistress, or curled purring on her bed at night.

Harry's pleasant musings were interrupted when the wards sounded an alert. As Master Wardsman, it made sense that he hold the wards for the Tent City that he now found himself unofficial Mayor of, and he'd taken the lessons learned from Anacosta into consideration when setting them up. It was a moment of work to touch the wards lightly and discover that they were warning him of the approach of a werewolf.

"Werewolf," Trinket grunted from behind him, and Harry turned, nodding in agreement. Trinket was co-holder, and took the responsibility seriously.

"Maybe its Sally's cousin?" Harry offered the thought as he got up, moving with Trinket towards the carpet that Harry had bought the Goblin for his honeymoon. Sally Morgan was seven years old, and had been bitten just over a year ago by a cousin that had hidden his status as a werewolf from the family. Her parents were breeders of mail birds, for domestic and commercial use. The midwife that had delivered Harry's twins had requested that her son's family be accepted into the Tent City, and Harry had accepted the child at once. They had of course put in some very hefty wards to protect Sally and the rest of the camp during the full moon, but one of the Potions Masters currently living with them was happy to brew the Wolfs Bane potion, which helped ease many worries. Sally's cousin had disappeared after infecting her, and Harry hoped he never came across the coward. Sally was a sweet girl, and good friends with May.

"It better not be," Trinket growled, "I can't conceive of a more cowardly creature."

Harry nodded in agreement, and leaned forward for a better view of the man walking nervously along the lakeshore. He snorted when he spotted the reason for the nerves.

"Brightfeather has him," Harry pointed and Trinket grunted approval when he spotted the Hippogriff that was shepherding the newcomer along. For a free beast, Brightfeather was very protective of Harry and his children, something that extended to the safety of those in the camp by proxy. Harry was as protective of the flight in return, and had headed off several poachers and more than one opportunistic hunter on the flight's behalf.

Trinket let the carpet sink lower, and Harry squinted to get a better look at the approaching man. Moments later, he was gasping in shock and urging Trinket to land. The moment the carpet was low enough, Harry leapt to the ground.

"Moony!" the cry was of a son, reunited with a father at last, and Remus Lupin gasped in shock before holding his arms out, urgency written on his face. Harry stumbled into them, holding onto the last of the Marauders tightly, tears burning his eyes. He'd never thought he'd see Moony again, and the chance to do so now, to introduce the man to his children, was an overwhelming gift for the green-eyed man.

"Oh Harry," Moony almost moaned, "Oh, you're looking so well!"

"I missed you Moony," Harry forced himself to pull back, "How are you?"

"Harry, I'm not here of my own volition, as much as I'd like to be. I'm under a Compulsion," Moony's voice was urgent and Trinket growled behind his Elder, shifting in anger.

"Trickery," he spat, "I should have known."

"Come up to the camp," Harry tugged Moony forward to the carpet, "We'll figure something out."

Brightfeather insisted on carrying Harry back to the camp, which Harry thought was a good idea. The longer they were apart, the more time he had to break the Compulsion on Moony. The Hippogriff obligingly passed over the carpet several times, and by the time Trinket landed next to the communal table where Harry had been working, Harry had the counter spell figured out and ready to go. He hit Remus without warning, knowing it was kinder that way than to put the werewolf through the strain of trying to resist the Compulsion while Harry worked his magic.

Then it was over and Harry had his arms full of shaken werewolf, guiding his old friend to a seat. Trinket made him step back while the Goblin ran several of his speciality spells over Remus, grunting when he got the results.

"Empty your pockets, Wolf," the Goblin's wand didn't waver and Harry watched as Remus pulled out his wand, a handkerchief and a lump of stone from his faded robes. From his reaction, he was as shocked as Harry to see the bit of stone, dropping it to the tabletop in shock.

"What is that?" Trinket demanded and Remus stammered, still not fully recovered from having the Compulsion broken. Harry knew the answer though, the lump of stone singing to him with the seductive call of home.

"It's a piece of the lintel to the Great Hall of Hogwarts," he murmured and picked it up, cradling it between both hands. Familiar and welcoming magic washed over him and he smiled involuntarily. He'd never thought he'd see Hogwarts again, and this little bit of stone was like a piece of his home made real. Brightfeather made a curious noise and Harry turned to show it to the Hippogriff, who sniffed at it delicately and then reached over to nibble at his wrist. He gave his friend a crooked smile and rubbed his own face against the razor sharp beak before they both straightened.

"Harry, I didn't put that it my pocket!" Remus said urgently, "I didn't know it was there."

"It's alright, Remus," Harry said gently and walked around the end of the table to sit in his own chair again. Brightfeather paced with him, and Trinket sighed in aggravation before plonking himself down a couple of seats away from Remus. He folded his hands in his lap, with the wand still visible. Harry took it as a personal favour that the wand was not pointed directly at Remus and shot a brief closed mouth smile at his friend.

"Who put the Compulsion on you? You had to deliver a message to me, yes?" Harry asked calmly, and Remus shook his head, despair in his eyes.

"Don't make me do what they wanted, Harry. Please, you've broken the Compulsion, I couldn't bear it if you made me do it now," Remus' voice shook and Harry nodded, thinking quickly beneath the calm façade that he was presenting to his father's last friend.

"Ok, Remus," he took a breath and gave the werewolf a soft smile, "You're looking well, if a bit faded at the edges there. How have you been?"

"Fine," Remus relaxed, smiling in relief, "I've been growing potions ingredients for Severus… um…"

"So you and Snape finally did something about all that unrequited lust that was sloshing around Headquarters?" Harry snickered, "Relax, Moony. As long as you're happy, right?"

"You're not… disgusted?" the last word was almost too low to hear and Harry let go of Hogwarts long enough to reach out a hand and take Remus' in his. He squeezed the sun-browned hand and rubbed scarred knuckles with the pad of his thumb.

"Moony, you're a grown man. You and Snape were either going to kill each other or kiss each other. It's not for me to tell you how to live your life," Harry grinned mischeiviously, knowing the perfect way to ease the tension in the man opposite, "When you get back, give Uncle Sevvy a hug from me, ok?"

"You're not going to keep me here?" Remus couldn't disguise his relief, confirming Harry's suspicion that someone was being held hostage at the very least, possibly Snape. He shook his head and met Moony's eyes.

"I wouldn't want your hostages harmed. Please, tell me what's going on, Remus," Harry knew his tone was faintly pleading, but didn't care, "I promise that any actions I take will be on my own behalf, not theirs."

"Some Gryffindor I turned out to be," Remus sighed, "They should have sent a Slytherin."

Harry snorted and sat back as Remus sat up. A tea service sparkled into being on the tabletop and Harry poured for all three of them, giving the werewolf time to gather his thoughts.

"I'm living a much proscribed life, Harry. As a Dark Creature, my movements are strictly controlled by the Ministry. I have a better life than most, Severus' potions are popular enough for the two of us to live well, and it was my idea to grow the ingredients for him. It keeps us on an even footing."

Snape would not have accepted a lover that couldn't contribute equally to their living, and it was a sign of how well Remus could manipulate people, setting himself up as a supplier for Snape's beloved potions.

"The fact that he is a potions master and he can brew the Wolf's Bane for me is another link in my short chain of freedom," Remus sipped again, his shoulders visibly relaxing as the mild calming potion Winky had put in his cup took hold, "Things at home have gotten very grim, though. After … Voldemort … things were peaceful enough for a while, though there were a lot of laws passed that have restricted some of the basic freedoms for people like me. Those that could leave the country have, with the Ministry's implicit blessing and indirect help. I… couldn't. I…"

"Stayed with your lover," Harry smiled gently and sipped at his own, unadulterated tea, "Remus, there is no question of blame or recrimination in your actions. I could not have respected you if you had left him."

Remus looked away, his eyes a little over bright and Harry gave him the time to recover, topping up Trinket's cup and his own and looking at the beautiful view calmly. His heart was aching though, at the thought of his father's friend living such a small life, even if it was made more palatable by the small freedoms he had contrived. Harry's exile was still a bitter pill to swallow, but he had built a life wholly on his own terms.

"Lately, the last four years or so, there has been a rise in Dark activity," Remus said finally, "A new Dark Lord. A new Dark Regime. The Ministry denounced him at once, but… they are completely ineffective at fighting him. Dumbledore is no longer a threat to the man, though he's still respected he's far too old to fight and … the Order disbanded. He tried to recall us of course, but none of us answered. We couldn't, not after the way he betrayed you Harry."

"I understand," Harry sighed, "So the Ministry set up a situation whereby they got you into their control, put the Compulsion on you and sent you to find me to ask me to what… fight for them again?"

Remus paled and Trinket leaned over to steady him in his seat, supporting a wavering hand to take another gulp of the tea. Harry cursed himself inwardly. His team were used to him pulling the facts out of the air, or another orifice as Trinket cheerfully accused him on a regular basis, but it wasn't something he'd done often in front of the Order, and the first time could come as a shock to people.

"Yes," Remus looked as if he was about to go to the executioner, "Yes Harry, they want you back to save them again."

Once upon a time, Harry would have considered it. Now, there was no way that he would do that. He wasn't stupid enough to believe that the Ministry would accept him back and end his exile if he succeeded in ridding them of their latest Dark Lord, provided of course that he survived the attempt in the first place. As much as he missed home, and wanted to ensure the safety of the people he'd left behind, the risks could not be justified. Even if he'd been slightly tempted, there was a herd of very good reasons that he couldn't.

The watch in Harry's pocket chimed, and he pulled it out. It had been a gift from Hagrid on his first Christmas in exile and he never went anywhere without it. It was a proper Wizards watch, which told you where you should be or what you should be doing instead of the actual time. Currently it read 'time to be invaded'.

Sure enough, the school tent flaps flung themselves back, and the few parents waiting outside it straightened out of their slouches. Children emerged, sorting themselves out into groups quickly and going home. The day-care tent's flap also burst open and an ungainly tiger cub leapt out, followed by two stripy haired children. The cub bounded across the camp clearing and threw itself into his lap, shivering and resolving into his son with a soft pop. Remus' eyes were out on stalks as seven other children swarmed over, hugging Harry and saying hello. Kit wrapped his arm around his dad, buried his face in Harry's chest and refused to come out.

"Oh dear," Harry sighed, "What's up, love?"

"Kit has sore ear!" Abby piped from where Davy was helping her up on the bench, "He sad!"

"Poor Kit," Evan chimed in and Davy helped him up as well while Jim reached over and ruffled striped hair. Madge scolded from Davy's shoulder.

"Harry," Remus breathed, "You had puppies!"

"Not puppies!" Beth piped up, her hair a lurid green and purple combination. Spot stood twining around her legs, purring in support of his mistress's assertion.

"Yeah, we're a herd," Lily agreed. Brightfeather snorted his agreement, rustling his wings when she slanted a cheeky smile at him.

"A horde," May corrected with a grin, Pretty draped around her neck.

The look on Remus' face was priceless. Harry burst into laughter.

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**END**

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To Be Continued in the sequel – 'The City of Tents' – coming soon… ish…

A/N – Now you know why I couldn't name a pairing!

For those that are curious to know, the extracts of Harry's biography were written by his namesake, Tinker.


End file.
